Commitment
by Apollo888
Summary: Mary and Matthew leave London to celebrate their four-year wedding anniversary away from their children and anything that might distract them from spending precious time together. While they are away, they have an encounter that might change their lives and their marriage. A modern day Mary and Matthew story, part of the Breaking Bread modern AU, the sequel to Allurement.


**Author's Note:**

In this next episode of the _Breaking Bread_ modern AU series, Mary and Matthew have gotten past their unexpected encounter with Kemal Pamuk in Allurement and life has returned to normal. They continue to raise their two children, George and Victoria while managing their burgeoning careers. Months on, they are now approaching an important milestone that takes on more significance than either of them expected.

I try and ensure that each of these stories stands alone. Reading the rest of the series beforehand would be helpful but is not necessary.

Please mind the rating. This is the most explicit series that I write, on several levels, for reasons that become apparent in the context of the plot, and the evolution of the characters. Mature readers only, please.

A special thanks to my long-time readers for continuing to stick with me. I appreciate all the messages and follow-ups from all of you. I've been struggling with my novel, which has had the unfortunate side effect of impacting all of my writing, unfortunately, but I'm trying to work through it. Your support is invaluable to me. There is more to come.

* * *

 **Commitment:**

 **Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, May 2020**

"See the ball, see the target, George," Matthew Crawley repeated, motioning to the small soccer ball on the floor, and afterwards the net set up just behind him. "See the ball, see the target."

George Crawley stared at his father with a confused look. He lowered his eyes to the ball, then back up to Matthew with a perplexed frown.

"See the ball, see the target," Matthew nodded. "Have a go, come on, now."

George looked down at the ball once more, regarding it suspiciously. Finally, he blinked and his face seemed to light up.

"Yes, George! Yes!" Matthew smiled as his son waddled forward towards the ball.

"Ball!" George squealed, reaching down and picking it up with both hands before running off for the stairs.

"Crikey," Matthew sighed, shaking his head as the toddler scampered his way upstairs with his spoils. "Well, maybe he can be a keeper."

"Darling, it's a bit early for you to be doing drills with him, don't you think?" Lady Mary Crawley called from her place curled on the sofa across the room. She arched her eyebrow at her husband and sipped her tea. "Why don't you work on him actually kicking the ball before worrying about what direction it goes in?"

"You can never get started too early," he replied, rising to his full height and smoothing out his trousers. "Real Madrid Academy starts at six years old, and they scout four-year olds."

"My son is not being shipped off to Spain at six years old," she stated pointedly, watching him as she took another sip of tea. "He's not even three yet."

"Well, I suppose we could enrol him at Chelsea or Arsenal, if you don't want him to train with the best," he shrugged.

"I'll be quite pleased if he manages to eat his vegetables on a consistent basis, unlike his father," she retorted.

"His father eats his vegetables quite well, thank you," he shot back, coming over to the couch. He loomed above her, his slightly taller height more pronounced as he looked down at her with a teasing smirk. "I think it's important to encourage his inherent talents. He got this net as an early birthday present, so we may as well use it."

"You bought him that net," she exclaimed, holding his gaze as she looked up at him. "What if he wants to play the violin, or be a scientist? There's nothing that says he has to be a footballer just because his father is obsessed with the game."

"I'm not obsessed with the game," he protested, frowning and sitting down next to her.

"You're not? Well, why is it that we must travel 300 kilometres to Manchester to watch United play when there are dozens of perfectly good teams here in London to watch?" she asked.

"I'm going to pretend you did not just say something so blasphemous as to compare United to any team in London," he scoffed. "Besides, Old Trafford is called the _Theatre of Dreams_ for a reason, and I should think it is not at all unreasonable for a father to want his children to experience it the way he did with his own father when he was a lad."

"Victoria is ten months old and I dare say she's already seen more United matches than many adults that we know," she noted.

"Well, she is quite lucky to have such nurturing parents," he said easily.

She rolled her eyes and finished her tea. "Just make sure that you watch him. If he takes out one of Granny's vases with an errant kick, she'll have your head."

"If he somehow manages to hit the ball hard enough to do that, I will gladly replace whatever he breaks," he said cheerfully. "Your Granny left those vases here because she detested them anyway."

"She doesn't detest them at all. They simply fit the décor of our home more than they do hers," she countered.

"Right," he nodded sceptically. "Anyway, can you stop scolding me long enough for us to talk about more important matters?"

"I'm hardly scolding you. You're a grown man. What important matters are you referring to, pray?" she asked.

He smiled and reached over to take her teacup out of her hands. He placed it down on the table in front of him before turning back to look at her with a stare that she knew all too well. His blue eyes seemed to flash with mischief, and his smile revealed his white teeth as he moved towards her.

"Matthew," she warned him, grinning as his hands reached up to frame her face.

"Four years ago, this very month," he began, his voice rich and deep. "I had the honour of marrying the most beautiful…"

He kissed her lightly between compliments as he went on.

"Brilliant…sexy…ambitious…wonderful woman in the entire world…" he continued.

"Let's not leave out tolerant and patient, now," she teased, running her hands up and down his sides and kissing him back.

"So very tolerant and patient, yes," he agreed, leaning in and easing her back against the cushions.

"Darling, the children…" she sighed, turning her head to allow him access to her neck.

"Are with Nanny," he cut her off. "And I am about to show my wife just how much I appreciate her."

She laughed and drew him in closer. "Well, I suppose you can be fast when you want to be."

He raised his head and gave her a surly frown. "Pardon?"

She kept laughing and kissed him over and over in apology. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I should hope not," he said indignantly.

"And what does my lovely husband have planned for our four-year anniversary, may I ask?" she smiled, arching her eyebrow at him. "Am I finally to be let in on your meticulously guarded and strangely unknown secret plans?"

"No," he shot back. "I told you that it's going to be a surprise."

"You know that I do hate surprises," she frowned.

"You only hate surprises when you are the one being surprised," he said, kissing her lightly. "In two more weeks, all will be revealed."

"Two more weeks," she nodded. "Well, if I am being made to wait, perhaps you should be made to wait as well."

He blinked. "Wait for what?"

She arched her eyebrow and smirked.

His mouth fell open in shock. "Now, let's not do anything rash."

She laughed and reached down his front. Her fingers slipped across his trousers and teased his growing arousal. "You are such a very predictable man, you know."

"And you are a cruel woman to even suggest such a horrible scenario," he grunted, flexing his hips at her touch.

"You know, there are married couples who go weeks without sex," she shrugged. "Between raising children, working and all the rest of it, life often gets in the way."

"That sounds like a horrible life, indeed," he huffed, running his fingers along her open collar and down to her chest. "I hate going two hours without making love to you sometimes, let alone two weeks."

She laughed and shook her head. "Insatiable."

Just before their lips were about to meet once more, a loud crash rang out from upstairs, followed by the crying of one child and the squealing of another.

He sighed.

She rolled her eyes.

"Nanny's got it," he said, looking at her anxiously.

"Darling, I believe that the mood has passed," she said softly, patting his face.

"Right," he rolled his eyes and got up away from her. Standing up, he straightened his shirt before taking her hand and helping her rise.

"Perhaps after dinner and the children are asleep," she offered, squeezing his hand.

"I am at your service, milady," he smiled, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers.

"Mama!" George shouted from upstairs.

"Yes, George, I'm coming! No shouting, please!" she called back before releasing Matthew's hand and heading upstairs.

Matthew shook his head and followed after her.

 **Home of Alexander Lewis, Hyde Park, London, England, May 2020**

"Now, obviously there are many florists that you can choose from, but I like Nikki. She won't assign an underling to you. She'll be personally involved and make sure you get exactly what you want," Mary explained. "She even has spare arrangements available on the day of, just in case anything goes awry. I was quite impressed with her."

Anna Smith nodded slowly, looking over the images of gorgeous floral centrepieces and bouquets on her tablet. "I remember dealing with her, yeah. She was quite good. Your flowers were gorgeous."

Mary smiled and went back to her notebook computer and tagged some centrepieces she liked in particular. "You can meet with her and whoever else you like. We have months to go before your wedding so there's plenty of time to decide who to proceed with."

Anna shook her head. "God, it's just so overwhelming and we're just on the flowers. At this rate, we'll be having fish and chips for the dinner."

Mary laughed. "Not if I have anything to say about it, we won't."

"I must sound ridiculous to you," Anna sighed.

"You sound like a woman planning her wedding and who wants it to be perfect," Mary smiled. "I see nothing wrong with that."

"Alex is just so chill about all of it," Anna scoffed. "He's so good about listening to me rant, but honestly, it makes me even more stressed that he's not at all bothered by any of the details. I keep dreading that he'll show up on the day and be horrified by what I've chosen."

"Matthew was exactly the same way," Mary nodded. "Although, to be fair, he's had a lifetime of putting up with me and Mama so it isn't as if he didn't know what to expect."

"Alex's parents have been wonderful, too," Anna shrugged, swiping her fingers over her tablet. "They just want a few tables for their friends. They haven't even asked for input on the menu. Here, what do you think of peonies?"

"I love them," Mary smiled leaning over and looking at the photos on Anna's tablet. "You are doing some Chinese dishes, though, aren't you, for their side?"

Anna nodded. "We're doing tasting stations during the cocktail hour – Peking duck, suckling pig and abalone. I wanted to do shark fin soup as a starter as well, but Alex said that's rather controversial."

"It is frowned upon," Mary agreed.

"And so horribly expensive," Anna shook her head, swiping through the different peony bouquets.

Mary gave her best friend a teasing smirk. "Darling, look around you. Your view of Hyde Park from here is worth millions. I don't mean to be rude, but I'm quite sure Alex can afford whatever meal you wish. Oh, I love the pink on those."

"That's not the point," Anna frowned. "I don't want him to…"

She was interrupted as a notification chime went off on her tablet and a photo popped up on the screen.

Mary arched her eyebrow in surprise as the photo was clearly of a naked man. His sculpted back muscles and tight bare ass were fully on display.

"Shit!" Anna exclaimed, swiping the photo away frantically before looking at Mary with wide eyes. "You didn't see that."

"What didn't I see, exactly? Please say that was from your fiancé," Mary smiled.

A crimson blush filled Anna's cheeks as she looked down and smiled demurely. "Yes, it was Alex, of course."

"Well, it seems he's getting into shape for the wedding," Mary joked. "And why did he send you that photo, exactly?"

Anna swallowed nervously, though her smile grew wider. "He…umm…that is, we...we like to send each other nudes."

"Anna May Smith!" Mary called, enunciating each name slowly and deliberately. "You temptress."

Anna laughed nervously and covered her face for a moment. "Oh fuck, he would have to send me one with you sitting right here."

"Where is he, exactly? In his office?" Mary asked.

"No, he's at the gym," Anna explained. "He prefers it there because it's more private."

"Apparently," Mary nodded. "So, is he waiting for you to…reciprocate?"

Anna glanced over at her matron of honour and blushed some more. "Yes, he is."

"Well, well, well," Mary exclaimed. "Don't let me stop you from attending to your…ritual."

Anna rolled her eyes. "I already have one for him. This will only take a sec."

Mary watched as Anna took out her phone and swiped over the screen.

"There," Anna declared, putting her phone back down.

"And you just sent him a photo of yourself naked, just like that?" Mary asked.

Anna laughed and nodded. "I know it sounds mad, but I actually quite enjoy it. He's just so…appreciative…it's quite cute, rather."

"I imagine it must be," Mary laughed. "And who's idea was this, may I ask?"

"It was mine," Anna admitted. "I wanted to do something special for him this one weekend when he had to work horribly late, so I sent him a photo from bed. He ended up sending me one from his office and it sort of escalated from there."

Mary laughed again. "I'm sorry, but that just doesn't seem like you at all."

"I know, I know," Anna laughed. "Alex just…he makes me feel so sexy with his compliments and his little messages that he sends me during the day. I don't know how but I just feel so fearless with him. I know that he's practically drooling over every pic that I send him and that just feels so…exciting. He doesn't actually push me to send him anything. I don't think he's ever even asked me for a specific photo, but it's just fun to do it."

"You're positively glowing," Mary noted, looking at her friend in wonder.

Anna laughed and nodded. "He just makes me feel so beautiful, is all."

"And the photos that he sends to you?" Mary asked. "You enjoy them?"

"Oh yeah," Anna smiled. "My fiancé is quite fit."

They both laughed.

"This gives the photo booth you're planning a whole new meaning," Mary noted.

Anna shook her head. "God, no! My nana will be there!"

Mary laughed and went back to her computer. "Here I thought I knew everything there was to know about my best friend. It seems not, apparently."

"I'm sure that you and Matthew have your fair share of private exchanges," Anna teased. "Alex and I haven't done it in his office, for one."

"Not yet," Mary retorted. "I highly recommend it."

"I don't know if we would ever do that," Anna sighed.

"You're trying to tell me that you send nudes to him but you've never had him outside of the bedroom?" Mary questioned.

Anna grinned. "In his car…once…that was it."

"That's not bad at all," Mary shrugged. "It is fun to spice things up a bit, although I believe if I ever sent Matthew nudes he would probably faint."

"Only one way to find out," Anna joked.

"Hmm, maybe," Mary replied.

"You did say you wanted to get back at him for not telling you where he's taking you for your anniversary," Anna commented.

Mary smiled and nodded. "I did, yes. Oh, bother, I better not. He's going to such an effort, you know. I should behave myself."

"Well, you know what they say about the quiet ones," Anna joked, smiling as she looked down at her tablet.

"I'm learning, yes," Mary laughed, shaking her head.

"I wasn't talking about me!" Anna rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I imagine Matthew has something brilliant planned for the both of you."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll enjoy it. I owe him that much," Mary shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Anna asked in confusion.

"Given recent events, is all," Mary replied, arching her eyebrow.

Anna blinked. "I thought that you got past your run-in with Pamuk?"

Mary sighed and nodded. "We did. We have. Kemal isn't an issue and never will be."

"Good. So, what do you mean when you say that you owe Matthew?" Anna questioned.

"He's been very understanding about the things that I've done in the past which hurt him," Mary explained. "I just want this anniversary to be about the two of us and enjoy being together without the children or distractions or anything else."

"Well, you have no secrets from each other anymore so that's good," Anna noted.

Mary took a breath and looked down at her fingers.

"You don't have any secrets left, do you?" Anna asked.

"Well," Mary admitted. "I haven't exactly told him about…Lana."

Anna's eyes widened. "I would have thought she would have come up when you had your talk about Pamuk?"

"No, she didn't," Mary answered. "There wasn't really an opportunity, or at least, he never asked, and I never raised it."

"He obviously never asked because he never knew to begin with," Anna noted. "Well, it was just a brief moment in your life."

"It was, yes," Mary nodded. "I've moved on since then, obviously."

"Have you ever thought about her since?" Anna asked.

Mary frowned. "Not really. Kemal mentioned her but other than that, it's been ages."

"Well, then there's really no need to tell Matthew, then," Anna finished.

"I agree. None at all," Mary nodded, smiling gamely.

 **Law Offices of Harvell, Carter & Lewis LLP, Fleet Street, London, England, May 2020**

"Who is covering your urgent files while you're away?"

Matthew looked up from his computer monitors and nodded to his best friend, and boss, Alex Lewis.

"Lavinia, mainly, and Klefbom will be supporting her on some of the receivership files. I don't expect there to be anything particularly important arising while I'm gone. All the major events have either just taken place or are still a month away at least," Matthew informed him.

Alex nodded slowly and looked at his phone. "Lavinia has blocked off your calendar already. She's rather keen."

"You know her," Matthew shrugged. "She's quite focused when she puts her mind on to something."

"So it would seem," Alex replied. "All right, I'm cautiously optimistic that your absence will not be a disaster."

"A disaster?" Matthew chuckled. "I didn't realize that I was so indispensable around here."

"You're not," Alex fired back easily. "But I know your files are a mess so I don't want to waste anyone else's actual productive time going through them if something comes up."

Matthew frowned and went back to his computer.

"How are your plans going?" Alex asked. "Has Mary figured it out yet?"

"No, she hasn't, thank you," Matthew grumbled. "You say that as if you expect that I can't keep a secret."

"From your wife? You can't," Alex remarked. "You're dying to tell her, I know you are."

Matthew smirked. "I'm keeping myself in check. It will all be worth it when I see the look on her face when we arrive."

"You've got another four days before you leave," Alex nodded. "I'm thinking she'll know by tomorrow."

Matthew huffed. "I can't wait for you to be married so I can see how well you practise what you preach."

Alex smiled. "Anna and I tell each other everything. It's much easier that way."

"Don't you enjoy surprising her, though?" Matthew asked.

"Yes, but I surprise her by telling her just before it happens. I don't drag it out for weeks and keep my plans hidden away like some MI6 mission."

"That's because you're new," Matthew shrugged.

"What are you talking about?" Alex frowned.

Matthew smirked. "You're new. You're months away from getting married. You're still in that new phase where everything is golden and nothing matters except spending time together and being all loved up and disgusting."

"Disgusting?" Alex repeated.

"You're new," Matthew waved his hand.

"And that makes you what, exactly, four years in?" Alex smiled.

"Four years and two children," Matthew added. "There's a difference, to say nothing for the fact that Mary and I have known each other since we were children, so really we're almost thirty years in."

"And so?" Alex prompted him.

"So, you must put in more of an effort at this stage in a relationship," Matthew continued. "There are so many competing demands, so many distractions, so many easy excuses to just go out and celebrate your anniversary with a bouquet of peonies and a nice dinner and call it a night."

"Didn't you get Mary a bouquet of peonies for Valentine's?" Alex grinned.

Matthew scoffed. "I got her more than that. Anyway, the point is that as the years pass, the romance tends to lose priority. All the surprises, the spontaneous ideas, the grand plans have either been done already or begin to seem like so much work. It takes more effort to resist that kind of indifference and keep things fresh."

"You talk as if loving Mary has become a chore," Alex questioned.

Matthew shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying at all. I love Mary with everything that I am. She's my wife, she's the mother of my children. She deserves the amount of effort that I'm going to so that our four-year anniversary is special. But make no mistake, it is an effort, and that's what I'm saying. It doesn't come easily and there's a lot of work involved – clearing our schedules, arranging for childcare, making plans all without her knowing about them – none of that was necessary for our first anniversary, for example. It is now."

"Well, hopefully, you both think it's worth it," Alex nodded.

"It will be spectacular, I assure you," Matthew said confidently.

Alex laughed and rose from his chair. "All right, I'll leave you to it, then."

"Hang on, we haven't talked about your Stag Do yet," Matthew called.

"We're months out from the wedding. There will be plenty of time for me to veto whatever you come up with between now and then," Alex replied, not breaking stride as he left the office.

Matthew smiled wryly and went back to his work. "Such a smug cunt," he muttered, shaking his head.

 **Grantham House, St. James Square, Belgravia, London, England, May 2020**

"France. We're going to France."

Matthew smirked at his wife as they made their way upstairs. Little Victoria was sleeping soundly in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as he held her close.

"We are not going to France," he replied easily.

Mary frowned. "Italy? Venice, perhaps?"

"You're coming up with rather ambitious ideas for a four-year wedding anniversary," he chuckled as they reached the landing and turned towards their daughter's nursery. "For our third, we stayed here, remember."

"Well, I expect we aren't staying here this time," she explained. "Victoria is older now. It would be quite a lot of effort to arrange to be away from the children for a week just to stay in a hotel in London."

He nodded as he brought the toddler to her crib. "We aren't staying in London, that's true."

She sighed and came to his side, kissing the girl on the forehead and cooing lightly. "Good night, my sweet, sweet girl. Mummy loves you so very much."

"And Daddy loves you, too," he said, looking at Mary wryly before setting the sleeping girl down and covering her with a blanket. They both took one last look at her before turning and leaving the nursery.

"We aren't staying in London, but we aren't going to France or Italy," Mary repeated as they wandered down the hall to the stairs.

"If you're going to list all the countries in Europe, this is going to become tedious," he joked, putting his hands on her hips as they went upstairs to their floor of the house.

"It's your fault that you've reduced me to guessing, since you refuse to even give your wife the slightest hint as to where you're taking her," she countered.

He laughed and nuzzled her neck slightly before taking her hand and leading her down the hall to their large bedroom. "Very well. I will give you a hint."

"Finally!" she exclaimed, smirking at him as he kissed her fingers and released her so she could go over to the antique vanity in her walk-in closet. "And what is it?"

He paused for effect, leaning against the doorway, watching as she removed her earrings and necklace before undoing her blouse.

"We are not staying in London, but we are not leaving the country either," he revealed.

She frowned at him for a moment before unclipping her bra. "Well, that does focus the inquiry a tad."

He smirked at the sight of her bare breasts as she continued undressing before going through to the large ensuite bathroom. Years of yoga and exercise helped her resist against the effects of age and having two children. As he followed behind her, the truth remained that she was just as attractive to him now as she ever was, but she was also notoriously critical of her body. As an interior designer to the rich and gorgeous of London, appearances meant far more in Mary's line of work than he thought it should. She needed to dazzle clients in her pitch meetings and consultations to stand out from her competitors, while also appearing on the cutting edge of fashion and beauty to fit the image the market demanded. Mary was routinely going against large design firms with tremendous resources and full of young, attractive people. He hated the superficial reality that she faced, but he had to grudgingly admit that she needed every advantage to steer work to her boutique practice.

Getting away would do wonders for them, he hoped. The demands of work and family meant they had very little time for each other, and what private time they could carve out usually was spent sleeping and recovering more than anything.

"Are we going to the coast?" she asked, scrubbing her face, her bottles of creams and lotions set out before her.

"No," he answered. "I should think if we wanted the beach we would go to an actual decent one in another country."

"We aren't going to Manchester, surely?" she questioned, looking at him suspiciously.

He laughed. "No, we're not. And my name is Matthew, not Shirley."

She groaned at his joke.

"I'm going to finish up my exercises," he declared, smiling at her. "Think of a few more questions for my return."

"Don't be long, I'm likely to fall asleep quite soon," she called.

"All right. I'll try and be quick about it," he nodded, heading for the door.

 **Home of Alexander Lewis, Hyde Park, London, England, May 2020**

"Mmm…oh, fuck…" Anna whimpered. She arched her back, her head lolling to the side. Her hands trailed up her stomach and across her heated skin, ghosting over her breasts and making her shake.

"Feel good?" Alex asked, his voice a deep growl in her ear. She felt his warm breath against her cheek, the firm press of his chest against her back.

"Mmm, yeah," she breathed, her eyes shut tight.

"Say it, babe," he ordered, winding his fingers through her hair while his other hand wound around to slide across her thigh.

"Please, please," she gasped, shifting her hips and pushing back against him. "Give it to me."

"Give what to you?" he asked lightly, holding her in place, denying her the friction and movement that she craved. "What do you want? Tell me."

She moaned as he pulled her hair back further, but keeping her maddeningly still in his hold. Her fingers pinched and pulled at her breasts now, another bout of delicious stimulation to only enhance the heat between her thighs. She felt small and trapped, his grip tight and unyielding.

"Fuck," she cringed. He loved hearing her beg and she felt a chill down her spine at the idea of giving him exactly what he wanted. "I need you. Fuck my pussy. Let me ride you, please."

He grinned in triumph. "That's a good girl."

She groaned loudly, her eyes snapping open as he tilted her hips, lifting her smaller frame up before letting her weight sink back down, taking half of his length inside of her before he raised her again.

"Yes," she whinged, finally free to move upon him, taking more and more until finally, she felt him flush against her bottom, seated fully in his lap. He stayed his motions, circling his hips to let her feel how much he had filled her.

"You feel so good, so tight," he drawled, kissing her cheek before moving slowly back and forth within her.

"Alex," she panted, her eyes closing again. Up until she began dating him, her sex life had been rather pedestrian by comparison. She hadn't had many boyfriends, to be fair, and neither had she ever really explored what she wanted and desired in the bedroom, usually just following the lead of her partner. Alex made her question exactly what she was interested in and how she sought pleasure. The results were quite shocking, her blood boiling whenever she was like this, wrapped in his arms, at his mercy.

"So good, so fucking good," she babbled, her legs shaking with every deep plunge.

Alex grunted and increased his pace. His fiancée's smooth skin sliding against his and her tight hold around him threatened to send him over far faster than he wanted. Her mewls and cries in response to his every thrust drove him mad, thrilling him again and again that this incredible woman was all his. He eased her forward slightly so he could look down between their bodies and watch her receive him. His grin widened.

"Mine, Anna," he sneered, pulling her down on to him as deep as he could, over and over. "All mine."

"Yours," she chanted, her voice choked. "Yours! Yours! Yours!"

She cried out as she released, clasping around him tightly. She fell back against him, quivering as wave after wave of bliss shook her, her pulse racing.

He continued his strokes, determined to last a while longer and carry her through. When her body stopped shaking and her breathing grew slightly less ragged, he drew upon the last reserves of his strength and made her scream again before he finally let go.

* * *

"Have you ever been with more than one woman at once?"

Alex's eyes opened suddenly, a perplexed look furrowing his brow.

"Uh, no. Never. Why?" he asked.

Anna grinned impishly, tracing her fingers across his bare chest, her eyes averting his as she rested against him. "Just wondering."

"I told you, babe. I prefer focusing on one woman at a time," he replied.

"Mmm," she nodded.

Both of their minds were working away during the pause that settled between them.

"Have you ever been with another woman?" he asked quietly.

"No, never," she replied immediately, shaking her head.

"Have you ever been with more than one man at the same time?" he continued.

She laughed nervously. "No, definitely not. I don't think I would ever want to."

"Okay," he said.

Another pause lingered over them.

"I would do it," she whispered. "I would be with another woman for you."

He reached down and gently lifted her chin, drawing her eyes up to look at him.

"What?" he asked.

She swallowed tightly. "I would be with another woman with you, if you wanted to. If you wanted a threesome, I would do it."

He snorted. "I don't want a threesome."

She smiled, biting her lower lip for a moment. "You don't? I thought all men were into that? Two women servicing you at once?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Not every man. Why would you think that?"

"Just assumed, I suppose," she shrugged. "You're so much more experienced than I am. I thought you would have at least contemplated it, or had it offered to you before."

"I'm not that much more experienced than you, for one," he objected. "And for another, you are more than enough for me. I don't want another woman. I only want you."

She smiled and kissed his chest, her eyes remaining on his.

"Have you thought about it? Being with another woman?" he asked.

She blinked. "No, not for myself, no."

"You've never been curious?" he enquired, his hand moving down to caress her back.

"No," she shook her head. "I think that my gay friends look absolutely gorgeous together, but I've never wondered what it would be like, personally."

"All right, then," he nodded. "I suppose we will have to just settle for each other then."

She laughed and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. "How utterly boring, babe."

"So very boring, yes." He wrapped his arms around her and slid his tongue past her lips, the two of them laughing freely.

 **M1 Motorway, Milton Keynes, Buckinghamshire, England, May 2020**

The engine purred in response to Matthew quickly shifting gears. He passed the lorry in front of them and sped away, winding his sports car down the motorway, lush country fields all around them. Music played from the stereo, some derivative pop song that Mary had chosen, as usual. Once he resumed cruising speed, he glanced over at his wife, a smirk on his lips at the sight of her.

Mary was sitting back, her hands crossed in her lap, head tilted slightly and looking vacantly out the window. She had been quiet since they left London, barely making conversation with him as they went further and further from the capital.

"Why don't we give the children a call?" he suggested. "You can see what crafts they're making with Nanny."

She blinked and looked over at him in surprise, her eyebrow arching in question before she shook her head.

"No, that's all right. We just left them barely an hour ago," she replied.

"It's been closer to two hours, and I know you miss them," he nodded, looking back at the road ahead.

She sighed. "I do miss them. We haven't been away from them for a week since before Victoria was born."

He chuckled in understanding.

She smiled and reached over to squeeze his thigh. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm being ridiculous. I really am looking forward to this trip, being alone together, just the two of us, truly."

"It's quite all right," he said reassuringly. "I'll try and keep you entertained."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'm sure that you will."

She settled back in her seat, a bit more at ease than before.

He continued driving, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Maybe just a quick call," she stated, taking out her phone.

"Of course," he nodded, though he was quite certain she didn't hear him.

 **Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, May 2020**

Mary leaned on the marble bannister, staring down from the gallery into the Great Hall below. This was always one of her favourite spots in the house. As children, she and her sisters would sneak out of the bedrooms and sit here, peeking down between the pillars at guests arriving for the grand balls that their parents would stage. She would see the lovely evening gowns and servants moving about with scrumptious treats on silver platters and marvel at the majesty of it all. When she became old enough to attend the many events that Mama hosted, she would still pause up here before descending the large staircase, taking in the moment before making her entrance.

The place seemed just as special now that it was empty, the warm memories still swirling about in the air. She could smell the food, feel the pulse of music and hear the laughter and revelry. There was something about Downton Abbey that always flooded her senses with warmth and comfort and joy.

"What do you think?" Matthew asked, his arms wrapping around her waist and his lips finding her temple.

She grinned and covered his hands with hers, turning her head to kiss him properly.

"I think my husband is quite wonderful and quite mad," she laughed.

He raised his eyebrow in confusion. "Mad, you say?"

"Of all the places to spirit me away for a week without the children, you choose here?" she questioned. "Not that I am not grateful, darling. I love it. But you didn't have to bring us here."

"I think it's perfect," he replied. "A grand English country home, all to ourselves, acres and acres of privacy. What more could we want?"

She grinned, leaning her head against him. "And what was the bribe to get Mama and Papa to leave us the house for a week?"

"They were more than happy to help out," he answered. "And I may have thrown in a week's stay at The Connaught, so they can see their grandchildren and enjoy the city."

She laughed and nodded. "And the servants? I notice there isn't any staff here to disturb us."

"The housekeepers will be in each day and there are instructions to keep the kitchen stocked, but everyone else is away," he advised. "We'll have to fend for ourselves, I'm afraid."

"How utterly horrible," she deadpanned. "All these rooms to ourselves. How ever will we pass the time?"

He hugged her closer. "Doing anything you wish, my darling."

She smirked and kissed him lightly. "Well, that brings all sorts of things to mind, doesn't it?"

He swallowed. "It does, yes. You'll have to be more specific for me, rather."

She kissed him again, her tongue teasing his lips before delving deeper. "I believe that you are perfectly capable of imagining all manner of things for us to do."

He reached up and caressed her face, kissing her lightly before his blue eyes held her attention.

"This week, my darling," he began. "You will tell me exactly what you want, what you crave, what you desire."

Her eyes widened, holding his gaze.

"You will hold nothing back from me, Mary," he continued. "I want to hear everything, all that comes to mind."

"Yes, Matthew," she whispered, her eyes darting down to his lips before looking back up at the cerulean pools that she often drowned in when he was feeling mischievous.

"Everything, Mary," he repeated.

"Everything," she nodded before kissing him hard in confirmation.

"I have something for you," he said thickly once they came up for air. "Come with me."

She swallowed and followed him as he led her down the hall to her old bedroom.

"So soon? We just got here, darling," she teased, squeezing his hand.

He gave her a knowing frown before leading her inside.

"Oh, Matthew!" she exclaimed.

Sitting on top of her dresser was a large bouquet of pink and white peonies in an ornate glass vase.

"They're gorgeous!" she gushed, going over and breathing in their perfume.

"Happy anniversary, my darling," he said softly, coming up behind her and kissing her cheek.

 **Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, May 2020**

"Come on, darling. Do keep up!" Mary called, looking back at her husband over her shoulder with a playful smile and an arched eyebrow.

"I'll be right…oof…there!" Matthew called, a particularly hard trot across the cobbles jostling him slightly.

She laughed and continued on, urging her horse forward.

Downton Village was a quaint spot that had been associated with her family seat for centuries. Long just a small stop for the locals to gather and featuring the requisite public square, village Church, post office and pub, the area had seen a bit of a boom in recent years. Her father had managed the division of the village into an old town of meticulously maintained 17th to 19th-century buildings and a newer district featuring boutiques, artisan shops and restaurants. It now rivalled nearby Ripon and York as destinations for tourists and visitors, particularly the busloads that came to tour the parts of the house and grounds of Downton Abbey that was open to the public.

As a result, it was still possible to ride into the old quarter on horseback, as had been done for centuries, and Mary was always one for respecting tradition.

Particularly where it would cause her husband embarrassment.

"All right, let's ease up and give him a chance, my darling," she laughed, petting Diamond's neck affectionately. The old stallion was still lively all these years later and responded to her touch immediately, slowing to a canter as they made their way towards the square.

"Mary, why are you slowing down?" Matthew called as his horse went galloping past her.

"We're turning here, darling," she called back, shaking her head as a look of terror came across his face.

It was another two blocks before he was able to rein in his horse and turn it around. Waiting for him to return, she took a moment to truly look at him, this man who had begun as her childhood friend and was now her husband all these years later.

His blond hair had darkened somewhat over the years, a few shades closer to brown now. That silly lock that would drift down over his forehead was jumping around haphazardly now, giving him the same boyish look she knew so very well. He insisted on wearing another of his Armani suits to ride into town, rather than something far more comfortable, but she had to admit that he wore it well. His broad shoulders were the only hint of the fit body that was hidden beneath the fine clothing, the jacket tapering down to his slim hips and legs firmed and sculpted by years of cycling. To any passer-by, he looked like a lawyer or accountant, a successful one at that, but she knew better. He had a bit of a devil in him, a hard streak that was strong and ruthless, whether it be in commanding his staff at work or making decisions at home. A boring Englishman he most certainly was not.

A smile crossed her lips as he nervously tried to guide his horse back to where she and Diamond stood perfectly still. Their romance had been hardly expected or predictable. Best friends for years, it was only through sheer luck that she learned of his long-hidden feelings for her. Even after acknowledging that she felt more for him than mere friendship, they were careful in the beginning. Going into a relationship with someone who knew her better than anyone else in the world was daunting, but soon became gloriously freeing. She could be herself with Matthew, he already knew the best and worst of her and supported her through it all. Marriage seemed entirely natural and two wonderful children followed in quick succession. This was their fourth wedding anniversary, but they had known each other for decades already. The giddiness that followed most new couples had long ago faded to a comfortable ease between them.

"Well, shall we?" he asked, slightly out of breath when he finally manoeuvred around to her side.

"Let's walk the rest of the way, perhaps," she smiled, easily swinging her leg around and dismounting.

"Oh, thank God," he sighed, almost falling off his horse in his haste to get his feet back on to the ground.

They led their horses over to the rest area and tied them there, making sure there was fresh water for them. Taking Matthew's arm, Mary revelled in the warm sun overhead as they wandered over to the large square. As usual, a market was set up with booths of farmers and artisans selling their crops and wares. The scent of freshly baked bread and the sounds of merry bartering floated about under a decidedly un-Yorkshire-like blue sky.

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had stayed here?" he asked, taking their time and visiting each stall.

"Stay here instead of moving to London for school, you mean?" she questioned.

"Yes, exactly," he nodded. "Rather than be an interior designer, you would have ended up as…"

"A housewife, most likely," she laughed. "Married off to some toff with a large family estate and very little else to offer. Spending my days raising children and running events for charity, perhaps."

"That does sound terrible, a waste of your talents, my darling," he smiled.

"I suppose I have ended up better off," she joked. "A better life. A slightly better husband."

"Slightly better? What a testimonial," he replied wryly. "I think we both know that you're far better off with me than with one of these unbearable country lords."

"Don't be jealous," she teased. "The boys that I met growing up weren't all bad."

"No, not all, just the overwhelming majority," he grumbled.

"You did tend to get into quite a few rows," she nodded. "I always thought it was because you didn't like them having a go at you for being a Manc, but now it seems it was another reason altogether."

"And what would that be?" he questioned.

"Perhaps you didn't like them paying me attention?" she suggested.

"Perhaps I didn't like how much you enjoyed their attention," he countered.

She blushed slightly and looked down at the cobbles. "Was I really so bad? Truly?"

He sighed. "You were a flirt. You knew that men liked paying you compliments and you took advantage. It wasn't entirely unexpected or surprising."

"But you would have preferred I gave you my attention, rather than wasting my time with them," she stated, looking up at him.

"That would have been preferable, yes," he replied. "Though, to be fair, perhaps you weren't ready for me back then."

"How do you mean?" she asked.

He gave her a calm smile, squeezing her hand. "Perhaps we both needed to have more life experiences and find out who we were individually before we could be together. Maybe if we had dated when we were younger it wouldn't have worked out and we would have lost any chance to be where we are now."

"Do you believe that?" she questioned. "You think that we wouldn't have lasted had we gotten together earlier?"

"I don't know, but honestly, my darling, I quite like how things have turned out for us and I don't think of the lost time at all," he declared.

She grinned and leaned towards him. "You do have a way with words."

Just before they could kiss, both of them opened their eyes at the sound of a shrill call ringing out nearby.

"Oh my God! Mary!"

They both frowned in confusion before turning together and looking upon a short woman with long red hair that went down almost to her waist. She was wearing a long blue dress with a plunging neckline and high leg slit. Numerous bracelets and necklaces completed her outfit, which was decidedly out of place for a country market.

"Amy," Mary nodded, immediately putting on a polite smile. "Hello."

"My word, it's been ages!" Amelia Grey proclaimed, coming over and trading air kisses with Mary before giving her a light hug. "Oh, you look gorgeous, as always! What brings you to Yorkshire? Visiting your parents, are you?"

Mary held on to the woman's arms to try and keep her at a distance. "We're here visiting for the week, yes. You remember my husband, Matthew, of course."

"Oh, Matthew, yes! Hello!" Amy exclaimed, giving Matthew air kisses as well, though he did nothing to reciprocate. "Imagine running into the two of you here of all places!"

"Imagine that, indeed," Matthew nodded.

"Well, I'm so glad that I saw you. We're having a party at the house later this week and you must be there!" Amy stated, taking out her phone from her designer bag. "I'll put both of you on the guest list."

Matthew looked over at Mary cautiously.

"That's very kind of you, Amy, but we have a rather busy week, I'm afraid," Mary said.

"Oh, nonsense. You can drop in anytime you like. It will be going all night," Amy waved her hand. "We except the weather will be quite warm so we're going to have it outdoors in the gardens. It will look absolutely spectacular."

"That does sound lovely," Mary nodded, glancing over at Matthew apologetically.

"Mary's father always says that Cavenham Park has the nicest gardens in the county," Matthew conceded drily.

"That's very kind," Amy giggled. "We do try."

Matthew laughed plainly, giving Mary a slight frown.

"Well, I need to get going. I will see both of you Thursday night. Be sure and dress appropriately!" Amy grinned.

"I'm sorry, dress appropriately?" Matthew questioned.

"Yes, of course," Amy nodded. "Oh, did I not mention it? It's a Black and Red party. Men wear black. Women wear red. It'll be spectacular!"

"A black and red party. I see," Matthew said, frowning again at Mary. "How interesting."

"Yes, wear something sexy, Mary! It's going to be something out of a dream! Ta!" Amy squealed, clapping her hands before kissing Mary's cheek and sauntering off.

"Ta, Amy," Matthew rolled his eyes, watching the woman take off. "God, that fake hair."

"I quite like that colour on her, actually," Mary shrugged. "I'm sure Larry is quite happy to show her off."

"To a point," Matthew added. "Larry likes the spotlight on himself as much as possible. God, spending a night with him and Tim. Lovely."

"I'm sorry, darling, but you do know that Lord Merton is my Godfather. It was either agree to go to the party or have to schedule tea with him at some point," she stated.

"I highly doubt he will be there to see his sons' shenanigans," he noted.

"He likely is in London, yes, but word will still get back to him as to whether we showed up or not, and that means Mama will hear about it, as well," she sighed.

"I know, duty requires it," he scoffed. "It's a good thing I packed my black suit."

"I don't have anything red, sadly," she frowned. "I'll need to find something."

"You have nothing red?" he questioned.

She rolled her eyes. "Darling, the red lingerie that you bought for me hardly is appropriate for a garden party."

He laughed and looked at her playfully. "Well, Amy did tell you to dress sexy."

She sniffed. "You would like that, would you? I could show up in my red bra and panties and high heels?"

"Wasn't there a matching stocking set to go with it?" he asked casually.

"I think it would be safer if I just went and bought a dress," she smirked.

"You could show up wearing a red potato sack and there will still be drunken louts begging for your regard," he said tightly. "It's inevitable."

"I promise that we won't stay long, and I promise I will make it up to you," she said.

"You will," he said firmly, looking at her with serious intent.

She arched her eyebrow at him in challenge before giving him a light kiss and pulling him towards a stand selling charcuterie.

 **Hyde Park, London, England, May 2020**

"Mary says that they ran into Amelia Grey in the village yesterday," Cora smiled, reading over the text message as she strolled along the pathway.

"Well, that's a rather bad stroke of luck," Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham, chuckled, smiling and making googly eyes at his granddaughter, who he held in his arms. Victoria giggled and reached out to pinch his cheek.

"Amelia isn't so bad," Cora huffed.

"No, but Larry and Tim are hardly Matthew's favourite people in the world. What else does Mary say?" he asked his wife.

"They've been invited to a party at Cavenham Park later this week. She's had to buy a new dress for the occasion," Cora advised.

"Of course, she has," he smiled. "Well, hopefully the weather cooperates. That is the coldest house in the county, even in summer."

"It's a garden party, darling," she stated. "I think it will be good for Mary to reconnect with some of the neighbours. There should be a fair number of people coming down from London that she hasn't seen in ages, as well. The Greys do have some rather lively affairs."

"A lively affair is hardly Matthew's speed," he shrugged. "He wanted to spend the week at Downton to escape all of that, I think."

"One night out won't kill him," she said pointedly.

"I suppose not, though it won't be the highlight of their anniversary trip, I expect," he noted.

"Matthew will be fine. He's been going to these parties and events with Mary since they were children," she shook her head.

He chuckled and nodded. "My darling, I understand that it's difficult for you to appreciate this, but no matter how much Matthew loves our daughter, he tolerates these events for her sake, nothing more. It isn't as though he ever enjoyed them."

She frowned. "I thought he had a splendid time whenever he came to Downton."

"Yes, he did, because he got on so well with Mary and Sybil and Edith, but getting dressed up to mingle with Society was hardly ever something he enjoyed," he shrugged.

Just then, Victoria laughed and drew her grandfather's attention once again.

"Isn't that right, my princess?" he cooed to the baby. "Yes, your Papa isn't one for schmoozing, is he?"

"Be that as it may, it's just one party," she shook her head.

They both looked up at the sound of laughter as the bend and returned to the Diana Princess of Wales Memorial Playground. Their youngest daughter, Sybil, was walking around, cradling her baby son close to her while her husband, Tom, and her sister, Edith watched on. Edith was hanging on to little George's hand, the toddler wanting to drag his aunt off to explore another part of the park.

The Earl and Countess of Grantham shared a knowing smile, taking in the scene. Raising three daughters had been full of its fair share of trials, but now they were able to look back fondly on the memories with their children settled in London.

"And what is the highlight of our little vacation so far, my dear?" Robert asked, smiling at his wife.

"I must say that today is certainly in contention," Cora replied before waving to her family.

 **Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, May 2020**

The gown was long and sophisticated, falling down to the floor and showing just a hint of Mary's feet. She would wear open-toed sandals with it and paint her nails to match the poppy red of the soft crepe fabric. The skirt hugged her form, cinched at the knees and again at the waist, framing her ass perfectly and rising up to a strapless bodice that left her shoulders bare. A single red strip wrapped across her left arm and tied around to the gold zipper that finished just above the small of her back. The bodice was high enough that it didn't show off any cleavage, and she frowned slightly at that, imagining the pretty young things at the party who would be flaunting their perky breasts in plunging necklines and push-up bras. She turned back and forth, smiling at how much of her alabaster skin was on display. It was an elegant piece with sharp lines and yet there was a sexy edge to it that suited her perfectly.

The door to the bedroom opened and she looked away from the full-length mirror to watch as Matthew came in, wiping his bare arm with a towel. He had already stripped out of his cycling jersey, leaving him topless and wearing just his spandex bib shorts, the straps falling down his thighs. His blond hair was dishevelled, and he was sweaty from his bike ride, his skin flushed from his exertions.

"Is that what you're wearing for tomorrow night?" he asked, going over to the armoire and pouring himself a glass of water.

"It is," she replied, looking back at the mirror. "It was delivered this morning."

"And the final alterations turned out?" he continued, sipping his water.

"I like it, yes," she nodded, smiling at her reflection.

"It seems a lot of effort for a garden party," he remarked.

Her image in the glass smirked back at her. "Well, you do want your wife to look her best, don't you?"

"You always look gorgeous to me," he answered. "New dress or no."

"That's very kind," she smiled patiently. "I haven't seen most of these people since before George was born so they'll be wondering how much motherhood has changed me."

"I hardly think a fancy dress can definitively speak on that," he grumbled, finishing his glass.

"It's the first thing that people will see when we arrive," she explained. "I want to make a considerable impression from the off."

"Is it truly so important what some toffs that you barely keep in touch with think of you?" he asked.

"Oh darling, it's all just a bit of fun," she smiled, smoothing the fabric out along her sides.

"Yes, fun…it will certainly be that," he muttered.

"And what do you think? Will I do?" she asked, ignoring his jibe as she appraised her reflection. The dress seemed more and more perfect the more she saw of it.

Her breath caught as suddenly he was behind her, the warmth of his body sweeping over her back. Her eyes widened at the sight of them in the mirror, his hair and gaze wild compared to the posh look that she presented. She swallowed as she caught sight of his blue eyes, his stare demanding her attention while his hand moved up to touch her bare shoulder.

"You look beautiful, darling," he growled, his fingers trailing along her shoulder to her neck, her skin warming beneath his firm touch. "I wonder, though, how you intend to wear your hair."

She took a breath, her pulse jumping. "I hadn't thought about it yet, actually."

Her voice was smaller than she intended, almost a whisper. Her eyes stayed locked on his.

"Perhaps you should wear it up," he said lightly, gathering her brown tresses in one hand and lifting it above her head. His other hand came up and swept across her throat, squeezing her lightly, possessively, turning her head slightly towards him.

"What do you think?" he asked, leaning forward so that his bare chest was almost pressed against her back, his deep voice caressing her ear.

"Possibly," she answered. She could feel a flush spreading through her body from his touch and close proximity, her vision filling with his toned arms and long fingers and those blue eyes that seemed to hold her frozen in place.

"Or, you could leave it down, but gathered to one side, perhaps," he noted, lowering her hair and shifting it behind her, a light tug making her raise her chin slightly and bare her neck.

"That could work, yes," she rasped.

"It works for me," he smiled, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to her neck, his lips lingering on her skin as his tongue darted out to taste her.

She gasped audibly, her eyes closing as she leaned back against him.

He kissed her shoulder next, his other hand still keeping a firm hold of her hair.

"How do you keep the dress on with just the one strap?" he asked between kisses, his other hand grasping her arm and keeping her tight to him.

"Tape," she sighed, her eyes still closed. She felt every touch as though he was filling her senses, the bedroom fading away leaving just the two of them. She felt increasingly helpless in his hold, unable to move or resist his ministrations and the thrilling sensation fired her arousal.

"How clever," he commented, his hand reaching around now to grasp her breast through the fabric.

"You'll make me untidy," she managed, opening her eyes to see that he was still staring at her in the mirror.

"Good," he stated.

He released her hair and she blinked as she felt his fingers slip between them and pull at the zipper of her dress. Soon the bodice loosened, and she felt his hands slip across her bare back.

"Take it off," he ordered, kissing his way back up to her neck.

She pulled her arm free of the strap and eased the bodice down her front. He immediately brought his hands around and fondled her breasts, a pleased groan leaving his lips as she shimmied her hips back against him while working the gown down her legs.

"You're going to wear a thong with this?" he teased, one hand sliding down to pull at the thin strap of her skimpy underwear.

"Yes," she nodded, licking her lips at the sight of him playing with her body.

"How convenient," he grinned.

"Matthew!" she moaned as his fingers moved past the silk and pressed against her centre.

"You're wet," he declared. "So very wet and warm and tight."

Her head fell back, and she cried out to the ceiling as he pushed a finger inside of her, using slow strokes to build her up easily.

"You know that it bothers me when you go to so much effort for complete strangers, don't you?" he posed, the question almost rhetorical as he added a second finger. "It infuriates me that you want to look your best for them."

"It's not for them," she shook her head, her voice sounding distant. "It's for me…"

"Oh, but you like the attention, don't you?" he chuckled darkly. "You find it exciting, having everyone's eyes on you, making the men crave you, making the women jealous?"

"I…maybe," she admitted, a harsh breath following as he pushed in deeper.

"You do," he repeated. "You like playing with them."

"A little," she nodded, turning her head towards him and kissing his cheek. "It doesn't mean anything."

"And what do you want now, Mary?" he asked, his fingers continuing to drive her on mercilessly while his other hand pinched and teased her breast. "Tell me."

"I want…" she groaned, her breathing ragged as heat pooled in her centre, her legs beginning to shake.

"Yes?" he asked lightly. "Say it."

"I want to cum for you," she whimpered, the admission sending a wicked chill down her spine. "Please, please…can I?"

"Yes, you may," he proclaimed.

He squeezed her breast and pinched with one hand. With a flex of his wrist, he pressed his other hand against her spot while pushing his fingers as deep into her as he could go.

Her mouth fell open and she drew in a ragged breath.

He bit into her neck just as his palm pressed harder against her spot.

"Matthew!" she shouted, just before her eyes squeezed shut and she arched her back, his deft touch sending her flying over the edge and to the void beyond.

"That's it, so good," he encouraged her, soothing his bite with his tongue as his hands continued their attentions, drawing out her bliss.

She gasped and panted, finally opening her eyes when the shocks slowed down, her every nerve seemed to buzz as she melted against him.

"Mmm, thank you," she hissed, kissing him softly.

"Taste," he commanded, removing his fingers and bringing them up to her lips.

She opened her mouth without hesitation and licked his fingers. He slid them into her mouth and she tasted herself, cleaning him thoroughly before he drew back and kissed her.

"What about you?" she asked lazily, her hand moving back to rub against him through his shorts.

"I need a shower," he smiled.

"Mmm, that sounds perfect," she smirked. "Shall we?"

"I'm quite sweaty, you know," he teased. "I will need a rather thorough cleaning."

"I am at your service, my Lord," she answered saucily, arching her eyebrow at him and giving him a naughty caress. "I'll be sure to get to every last bit of you."

She yelped and laughed as he picked her up off the floor, her designer dress left in a heap but still intact at least. Hanging on to him, she rested her head against his shoulder while he carried her to their bathroom.

 **Home of Anna Lewis, Chelsea, London, England, May 2020**

"What is that?" Anna demanded, frowning as she watched Alex approach her carrying a small plate.

"Key lime cupcakes," he smiled, waving the plate in front of him with a flourish.

"Yes, I know what they are, I meant what are they doing here?" she asked, slowly backing away from him and retreating to the other end of the sofa.

He sat down and placed them on the glass coffee table. "I picked them up on the way home from the office. Your favourite."

She covered her mouth and shook her head quickly. "No, hun, I can't have those."

"Oh, come on, we can split one," he said, picking up one of the delectable treats and proceeding to pull it apart into two halves.

"No! Alex! I meant it!" she said emphatically, waving her hands in front of her. "Get it away!"

He sighed and put the cupcake back down. "Babe, I think you're taking this whole diet thing way too far."

She scoffed and slapped his arm. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to lose five pounds to fit into your wedding dress!"

He quirked his eyebrow at her in disbelief. "Well, I wouldn't be wearing a dress, first of all, but you don't need to feel as though you have to meet a particular number. You can have the dress altered to fit you just as you are."

She crossed her arms over her front and glared at him. "Just as I am? And how am I?"

He blinked at her accusing stare. "You're perfectly gorgeous at the weight you are now, is my point."

Her eyes narrowed. "And what weight would that be?"

His eyes widened. "Uh, I don't know how much you weigh, babe. It doesn't matter to me."

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "Such a man."

He threw his hands up. "What does that even mean?"

"What it means is that a man, particularly a tall, fit one such as yourself, can't possibly relate to the many issues that a bride faces," she retorted. "You haven't got an ounce of fat on you, and your tuxedo fits you perfectly. Everyone will be looking at me, checking out whether my dress bunches too much in places or shows too much skin. 300 people will be evaluating me the entire day and night, so yes, every pound counts."

"Why should it matter what your mum's friend Myrtle thinks of you when your future husband already thinks you're the most beautiful woman in the world?" he countered.

"You're being rather naïve," she frowned. "My wedding day is the one day in my entire life that is all about me. It's irrational and unreasonable, yes, and you may call me vain all you like, but I want to be absolutely stunning on that day, dazzling, even."

"Dazzling," he repeated sceptically. "You want to be dazzling?"

"If I had my choice, yes, yes I would," she confirmed.

He looked at her curiously for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and getting up off the sofa.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To put these in the fridge," he replied, taking the cupcakes with him. "Then we are going out."

"Out?" she questioned. "It's almost nine. Where would we be going?"

"To the gym, of course," he replied easily.

Her eyes bulged. "To the gym?"

"Yes, the gym," he nodded. "I think your pursuit of losing weight is entirely ridiculous and unnecessary, but if that's what you want, that's what we'll do."

"You want to exercise with me?" she frowned.

"I'm going to the gym," he declared. "We'll see if you can keep up when we get there."

She watched him head off into the kitchen, her mind still processing what he said.

"You'll need to get your things if we're going to get moving," he called.

She shook her head before rising from the sofa and heading down the hall to the bedroom, a small smile coming over her despite her attempts to stifle it.

 **Cavenham Park, Yorkshire, England, May 2020**

The Grey Family Garden Party could be called an outdoor party the way that Cavenham Park could be called a country cottage, that is, in only the very loosest definition. Five hundred invitations were sent out and over a thousand people showed up. The men dressed in black. The women dressed in red. Anyone not adhering to the strict dress code didn't get past the valets in the large courtyard, let alone anywhere near the security at the door. Guests went through the opulent foyer and down a long hall to reach the garden in the back, a deliberate move to allow the Greys to flaunt their estate home, rather than have people take the more efficient, and less impressive route around the outside.

Amelia Grey went to great pains to ensure that everyone knew this was her party. The invitations were all electronic and coded so that the most important of guests were ushered through ahead of the queue. Even in 2020, the rich still had a hierarchy. When the security scanned Matthew's invitation, he and Mary were sent through immediately. Envious stares thrown their way did not go unnoticed, neither did the photographers stationed near the door.

"They have their own paparazzi?" he asked, looking straight ahead as they paused in front of the designated photo area.

"Amy wants it to be top of the society pages and the first item on all the celebrity blogs, clearly," Mary replied through her classy smile. "What better way to ensure that than to have your own photographers on staff?"

"That's rather clever of her, I suppose," he remarked, continuing on into the house.

Her shoes clicked on the tiled floor. "She's thought of everything, I expect. It's one thing to have photos and write-ups in the papers and online, but even today, word-of-mouth is the best form of publicity."

"It would seem that this is a tough crowd to impress," he noted. "Everyone here has been to more than their fair share of fancy parties."

They came out on to the large stone patio that looked over the back gardens. The guards made them pause before heading down the wide steps but Mary and Matthew came to a standstill anyway at the sight before them.

"You were saying?" she smiled.

The first thing they noticed was the large fountain in the centre, lit up with red lights as towering jets of water arched into the air. Two shallow pools were set up on either side of it, with small stages on each. Suspended above each stage were scantily clad acrobats, one dressed in red, the other in black, performing aerial stunts on large metal hoops. Music played from hidden speakers and there was a long bar set up at the far end of the garden. High shrubs and tall trees enclosed the space, creating natural gathering points around the pools and the bar. Numerous statues of fairies and nymphs completed the décor. The space was large enough that a thousand people couldn't fill it, but small enough that there was a sense of intimacy, as though it was a secret gathering in some mystical forest.

Champagne flutes were placed in their hands as soon as they descended the stairs. Even the servers were adhering to the dress code as they moved about with their black and red trays. They paused to admire one of the acrobats as she spun upside down, clinging to the hoop by just one foot.

With Matthew transfixed, Mary glanced about as she sipped her champagne. She recognized numerous people, noting how some had changed since the last time she saw them. The crowd was decidedly younger, as she expected. Larry and Amy were closer to Sybil's age than hers. Unlike one of Mama's parties where older attendees were often invited based on their status and available network, this evening's guests were mainly Amy's friends, or people she wanted to be friends with.

She arched her eyebrow as she surveyed the scene. There were details that Matthew would not notice, such as the fake tans some of the women were sporting to go with their manicures and hair extensions, or how the men were looking more and more predatory depending on how many drinks they had. There was the waft of marijuana and cigar smoke in the air, though Amy had the good sense to keep the smokers to a particular corner so it didn't become obtrusive. The music was lively and the laughter of the guests and the decadence of the setting made the air electric with possibilities. She smiled as a frisson of anticipation bloomed in her chest.

"Buy me a drink?" she asked, smiling at Matthew.

"Right away, milady," he joked, waving his hand before escorting her towards the bar.

"Mary! Matthew!" Amy called, coming up to them as they reached the back. The bar was covered in dark granite with a lit wall containing bottles and bottles of alcohol behind the team of well-dressed bartenders. The space seemed to blend in with the trees above them, lanterns hanging from some of the branches to fit in with the enchanted forest theme.

"Amy," Mary smiled, kissing the hostess on both cheeks. "You've outdone yourself!"

"Oh, darling, stop," Amy laughed, squeezing Mary's bare arm playfully.

Matthew ordered their drinks as the two women gabbed away. He was grateful that Larry and Tim were off with the smoking crowd, allowing him to avoid them for now. As he escorted Mary through the party, she had greeted more and more people, most of whom he barely remembered or recognized. Her face seemed to brighten with each person they encountered, easily trading hugs and cheek kisses as they went. She always introduced him, and he always nodded politely before slipping back and waiting for her to spend the requisite time with whoever it was, so they could then move on.

"Do enjoy yourselves," Amy finished, kissing Mary once again. "The night has just started. There is plenty of time left to get into a bit of trouble."

"We shall," Mary smiled.

As Amy slinked away, Matthew brought Mary her gin and tonic.

"Thank you, darling," she exclaimed, clinking her glass with his Coke before taking a long sip. "Mmm, lovely."

"Where to now?" he asked.

"Wherever the night takes us," she grinned.

"Sounds…fun," he nodded.

* * *

Not quite an hour into the party and Mary was pulled away by a group of women who wanted to catch up on something or other. Matthew kissed her hand and sent her off. She gave him a playful smile before departing. Becoming separated at these parties was a common occurrence for them, dating back to when they were teens even. Mary was often one of the more popular people and Matthew would usually let her mingle with her so-called friends rather than hang around her looking useless. As she often reminded him, he was more than capable of making small talk when he tried. He did it for law firm events all the time. However, that was for work and usually had a purpose. He failed to see any real purpose to making casual conversation with people he had no interest in talking to.

"Matthew."

He smiled in surprise as a man just slightly shorter than him with close shaven black hair and a black goatee approached him.

"Jack," Matthew acknowledged Jack Ross, a singer from London who was a friend of Mary's cousin, Rose. "How are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm good. I'm good," Jack replied, shaking Matthew's hand. "Amy invited me. She said I should come up and see how you rich folk live."

"Haha," Matthew smirked. "Well, you're lucky that we even showed up. We were invited by fate, it seems. We ran into Amelia in the Village and here we are."

"Yeah, it's quite the party," Jack smiled looking around. With drinks flowing, the crowd had gotten decidedly livelier and louder, a few people even kicking off their shoes and dancing in the shallow pools to much applause and laughter.

"Yorkshire is wild, you know," Matthew joked. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, I've got a few ladies to text back later tonight," Jack smiled. "What about you? Mary's off with her girlfriends, right? You enjoying the view?"

Matthew laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I can't say anyone here is really my type."

"That doesn't mean they haven't tried chatting you up though, yeah?" Jack joked. "Flirting with married men is a challenge for some women."

"I think you'll find that married men flirt back far more," Matthew smirked. "I keep it simple. Ignore a few drunk women and word gets out that you aren't interested. I'm just waiting to leave, really."

Jack chuckled. "A garden full of beautiful women and you just want to leave. If your wife wasn't so gorgeous, I would wonder about you, Matthew."

"I'm not overly bothered about what people think of me," Matthew replied plainly. "Trying to impress this crowd usually is a losing proposition, in my experience."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jack nodded. "It's not about impressing them, though. Sometimes, you're just looking for a little fun, is all."

Matthew glanced around at the crowds gathered on the dance floor, over at the long bar, and small cliques gossiping away around the fountain and pools.

"Just some harmless summer fun," he nodded.

"Yeah, or even a bit of fun just for the night," Jack laughed.

Matthew smirked and shook his head ruefully.

"When's your next tour? Mary and I will come out for a show, of course," Matthew asked.

"We're putting the details together now," Jack answered, taking out his phone. "Let me show you some of the mock-ups for the stage we're going to use. It's pretty crazy."

* * *

"Ahh!" Mary grimaced for a second before licking her lips and smiling. She put the empty shot glass down on the bar to the cheers of the other girls.

"Yummy! I love blowjobs!" one of the others cackled as the group finished another round of drinks.

"Mary, that dress is just gorgeous!" another gushed, staring at Mary in wonder. "I love the top."

"Thank you," Mary nodded, smiling smugly. She was surrounded by a small group of old high school friends and other acquaintances, women she didn't keep in touch with but who were pleasant enough, particularly after a few drinks. She swayed slightly to the beat of the music, barely listening as one of the girls told a story about some embarrassing moment at a Wimbledon party last year.

"Gin and tonic," the bartender announced, sliding the new glass across to Mary. She smiled and nodded to him in thanks before taking a sip. Pretending to be listening, she glanced around the garden, feeling wonderfully tipsy.

It was now three days into their vacation and all the worry and tension of leaving her work and the children behind had ebbed away. She loved that Matthew had brought her to Yorkshire, back to her home, to where she grew up. There was a familiarity here, an ease that she felt, unlike anywhere else in the world. The land held so many memories for her, had helped shape her into who she was, and was so different from the frenzy of London.

"Where's Matthew?" someone asked.

"He's around," Mary replied. Another girl pointed to a large man who had slipped in the pool and was now doing snow angels in the water to the laughter of all around.

She giggled at the sight, taking another sip of her drink. Back when she lived here, life was full of possibilities and her responsibilities were few. She knew she was going to London. She expected greatness to arrive upon her in some form. Though she was well aware she had to work and compete for everything, particularly since she wouldn't be going into the family business, she still expected to succeed. Lady Mary Crawley did not fail. That confidence and self-assurance came easily to her back in her youth, before she was truly challenged and truly faced any ugliness that the real world could bring. Being objectified, being misunderstood, being underestimated, being disregarded, that type of adversity never touched her here. Here, she was part of the ruling class. Here, she was beyond reproach.

Years later, she had carved out a life for herself in London that most would die for, but it was filled with duty and obligation. Running her own business, running her own household, raising two children in her family's ancestral home, it all came with expectations. Being back here, having drinks beneath the stars, revelling in the moment, brought her back to that heady time when she was up for anything and everything.

"Mary, have you met Madeleine?"

Mary turned her head and blinked as a woman about her height with dark brown hair and green eyes came over to them. She was wearing a blood red bandage dress with a halter top that showed off plenty of cleavage and a short skirt that stopped at mid-thigh. Her diamond earrings and matching choker sparkled in the flashing lights around them and she eyed Mary intently while sipping her drink.

"I don't believe I have, no," Mary shook her head, holding Madeleine's gaze. "Lady Mary Crawley."

"Madeleine Allsopp," Madeleine laughed, her voice light and airy. "We certainly haven't met. I would have remembered."

Mary smiled and nodded.

Someone began talking about their coming trip to Ibiza.

Mary turned away from Madeleine to pay token attention to the new topic of conversation. After several moments, she glanced back over, feeling as though Madeleine hadn't shifted her gaze away, as if this stranger was still watching her.

She was.

* * *

"It's a beautiful garden, but it's an absolute bother to maintain, of course. The outside staff is always asking for more – more labour, more machines, more flowers, more this, more that. But, Amelia enjoys it out here, so I allow her a bit of a free rein to keep her happy. You know what they say – happy wife, happy life – and all that."

Matthew nodded slowly, watching as Larry Grey laughed at his own joke. The heir to his father's fortune, including Cavenham Park and the title that went with it, was a childhood family friend of Mary and her sisters. Matthew had seen plenty of Larry during his visits to Downton. They were never particularly close, but Larry was one of those people who needed to fill the air with conversation no matter who he was around and assumed that everyone was always interested to hear anything and everything that he wished to say. Accordingly, he felt entitled to drone on and on whenever they ran into each other.

In time, Matthew had just grown used to the dolt, tolerating his presence rather than bothering to call him out on his exaggerated stories or ridiculous opinions. He and Alex would sometimes joke that his skill as a lawyer who knew when to pick and choose his battles was first developed here in Yorkshire with people like Larry.

"How are George and Victoria?" Larry asked, sipping his drink.

Matthew blinked in surprise. "Well, thank you."

"They're both growing so fast," Larry chuckled. "Mum will show me some of the photos that Cora sends around and it just stuns me how big they both are now."

Matthew couldn't help but smile. "They keep both of us quite busy, yes."

Larry laughed and nodded. "I imagine so. Amelia thinks they're adorable."

"Have you thought about…?" Matthew asked, unsure how to respond.

Larry grinned and shook his head. "Come on, Matthew. Do you honestly think that I'm ready to be a father? I'm still very much a child myself."

Matthew barely kept his mouth from falling open in shock at such a frank and accurate admission.

"No, not yet for us," Larry smiled, taking another sip of his drink. "We're enjoying being married and not having to take care of anyone but ourselves. Definitely in a few years, though. We still have some growing up to do first, I think."

"That's rather…self-aware of you," Matthew muttered. "Though I should tell you that I don't think you ever believe you are fully prepared for children, even after you've had them."

"I've heard," Larry chuckled. "Must be a nice break for you to get away for a week just the two of you."

"It is, yes," Matthew agreed. "It's important to make time for just us."

"And where is your lovely wife?" Larry asked.

"Socializing, of course," Matthew smirked. "Best to stay out of her way in such situations, I've learned."

Larry laughed and patted Matthew's shoulder. "Truer words were never spoken. I barely see Amelia at all at these things. It's a bit old-fashioned, the men hanging out together and the women gossiping in packs."

"The way that I see it is Mary gives me the vast majority of her time. I can spare her for a night or two here and there," Matthew noted.

"Good man," Larry smiled, raising his glass to Matthew and taking another sip. "Our wives would likely detest us for crowding them, anyway."

Matthew had to smile at that.

* * *

Mary idly stirred her drink, her eyes straying over to the dance floor where Madeleine and Amy were dancing near a group of their friends. The song was one of those electronic dance numbers with heavy bass and frenetic rhythm, and everyone seemed to be in their own little worlds gyrating to the song. Madeleine and Amy stood out though, at least to Mary. Standing behind the shorter woman, Madeleine towered above her, one hand placed lightly on Amy's hip as they danced to their own cadence. Amy's head swayed side to side, her red hair shimmering back and forth. She raised her arms above her head and kept them there, a dumb smile filling her face as she lost herself in the music. Madeleine slipped her hands up Amy's sides, holding her in place and moving her hips in time. They were just two friends having fun, but there was something in the way the taller woman held her and how her eyes stayed fixed on her pale skin that held Mary's attention.

Amy seemed oblivious, or, rather, didn't mind at all that Madeleine kept her in hold as they danced. As the beat went faster or slower, the rhythm going from pulsing to boiling, they continued to move together, their bodies pressed close, Amy's bare back and shoulders resting against Madeleine's chest.

For the first time, Mary noticed that Madeleine had a tattoo on her back, a long set of cherry blossom branches that snaked up to her shoulder. As she moved, the small pink flowers seemed to flex and sway, visible even from a distance in the surreal glow of the laser lights.

Mary sipped her drink. The beat of the music seemed to reverberate through her body, even though she wasn't dancing. Her pulse was jumping, a slight flush from the alcohol and the warmth of the evening colouring her skin.

The song soon bled into another and Amy kept dancing. Madeleine leaned over and whispered something in her ear which caused her to turn her head and laugh heartily. Mary arched her eyebrow at the exchange, wondering what they were giggling about. She blinked when Madeleine kissed Amy lightly on the lips before untangling herself and letting her continue to dance. It was just a brief touch but seemed so comfortable and natural between the two women. Amy kept dancing, turning away and joining the circle around her once more.

Madeleine emerged from the crowd and headed straight towards Mary.

"I love that song!" Madeleine exclaimed, her eyes bright as she came to Mary's side.

Mary smiled and nodded.

"Don't you dance?" Madeleine asked, blowing slowly on her fingers as she kept her eyes on Mary.

"I've been known to, yes," Mary smirked.

"Well, maybe you'll save me a dance for later?" Madeleine suggested.

"Maybe I will," Mary replied.

"What are you drinking?" Madeleine asked, reaching over and snatching the glass out of Mary's hand. Mary watched in surprise as the woman took a sip of her drink before smirking at her.

"Gin and tonic," Madeleine shrugged. "That's all right, but there are far better things to try."

"Such as?" Mary asked, arching her eyebrow.

"Are you sure that you're up for it?" Madeleine teased, her eyes drifting down for a moment before returning to Mary's eyes. "I wouldn't want to ruin your delicate sensibilities."

Mary arched her eyebrow, looking at the other woman in bemusement. The music was still loud and pulsing around them, making the air charged and alive.

"I can handle anything you put in front of me," Mary declared.

Madeleine grinned before waving to a bartender. "That's what I like to hear."

* * *

"So, she's the one who leaves him, but she still gets to keep two of the houses, two of the cars, and he has to pay her support on top of that each month as well as pay for the kids to go to school and all of that. How is that fair?"

Matthew took another sip of his Coke, trying to busy himself as Tim patiently waited for his answer.

"Well, I'm not a family lawyer, you see," Matthew managed when he couldn't possibly keep his cup to his lips any longer.

"Yes, yes, I am aware of that, Matthew," Tim waved his hand dismissively. "But a little common sense should say that if she wants to end the marriage, then they should each need to fend for themselves, shouldn't they? Provide something for the children, of course, but why she should receive such a windfall for ruining his life is baffling, isn't it?"

"I suppose it has something to do with the expectation that he would be providing for the family while she stayed at home and raised their children," Matthew muttered, glancing about for any opportunity to extricate himself from the conversation and finding none.

"And so long as she remained his faithful wife she would have received that lifestyle," Tim countered. "But the moment she wants to go and shack up with the tennis pro, all bets are off, aren't they?"

Matthew blinked. "Tennis pro?"

"Well, hypothetically," Tim shrugged, taking a pull of his beer. "No one throws their life into chaos like that without some incentive."

"It's possible, yes, speaking hypothetically," Matthew nodded.

"She probably knew all along that the law would favour her. Women can be quite conniving that way," Tim grumbled.

Matthew frowned. "The division of property guidelines aren't hard to find, that's true."

"You just never know what they're up to when your back is turned," Tim grunted, scowling as he took another drink.

"Does anyone, rather?" Matthew mumbled, sighing as he allowed Tim to wallow in his hypothetical scenario.

* * *

The drink was predictably strong, and Mary was braced for it, expecting that Madeleine was familiar with a fair share of exotic drinks in her time. To deviate from the standard array of martinis and cocktails would require something unique and rare, but Mary did not figure that Madeleine would go for a tequila shot or something similarly overpowering. The woman seemed to have an edge about her but her expensive dress and jewellery revealed someone who was cultured and refined. Her skin was flawless – even the tattoo was perfectly coloured and detailed – if she had any work done, it was remarkably undetectable. The lines of her face were sharp without seeming to be brought on by age or misused chemicals.

The drink tasted sweet, pineapple and citrus blending well with the subtle bite of rum. Mary kept her eyes on Madeleine as she sipped. She was quite drunk but wonderfully entertained, her mind asking a plethora of questions regarding her new acquaintance. Where was she from? There was no noticeable accent to indicate any particular region of London or thereabouts. She seemed to be at the party alone, no hint of a boyfriend or lover accompanying her. How did she know Amy? Why had Mary never crossed paths with her before at any of the parties or events she had attended over the years?

"Well?" Madeleine, asked, leaning in close. "What do you think?"

"It's good," Mary nodded, turning her head slightly to catch the other woman's eyes. "I don't see what makes it particularly special, however."

"I never said it was special. I said it was better than a gin and tonic," Madeleine smiled, taking another sip.

Mary laughed and took a sip of her own. "I wouldn't say it's better, just different."

Madeleine nodded knowingly. "Give it time."

"Why?" Mary questioned. "It's pineapple and rum with lime."

Madeleine smiled patiently and shook her head. "Take another sip, but go slowly this time. Savour it, don't just drink it. Hold it on your tongue for a moment before you let it slide down."

Mary frowned for a moment, then followed her advice, taking a longer and slower sip of the drink. The sweetness of the pineapple touched her first, with the familiar nip of the rum behind. She tasted the drink for a moment before swallowing, licking her lips to get the last hint of flavour.

"Wait a moment," Madeleine smiled before Mary could speak.

Mary didn't look away from the woman's smiling face. At first, she didn't think there was anything particularly different about this sip compared to others, but after a brief second there was the tug of something at the back of her throat, a tingling sensation that she hadn't placed before.

She blinked in surprise.

Madeleine smiled and nodded knowingly. "That's it. Let it come."

Mary arched her eyebrow as heat seemed to gather over her tongue. There was a strong kick that made her mouth water and her eyes moisten just slightly. Her skin seemed to prickle, the heat spreading down her neck and across her chest, blooming through her as if the drink had somehow caught flame.

She looked away from Madeleine for a moment and stared at the glass, somehow expecting that the liquid would have changed colour. The heat seemed to spread within her, rushing delightfully through her veins and causing her to grin at Madeleine from the discovery.

The other woman brought her lips to Mary's ear, the warmth of her presence only adding to the heat in her chest.

"It's called a _Spicy Maiden_ ," Madeleine drawled, her voice smooth and liquid, much like the drink she had introduced Mary to. "Rum, lime and pineapple, yes, but it's all muddled with jalapenos for an hour before shaken and served. It takes a bit to kick in, but when it does, it's very powerful. I thought it was the perfect drink for you."

"How so?" Mary asked, her vision filling with Madeleine's dark eyes and full mouth as the other woman drew back slightly.

"It's sweet and predictable on the surface, the flavours neat and well set-out," Madeleine answered, her lips curling into a smile. "But just underneath that exterior is a dangerous heat that only comes out to play when you take the time to strip off all the layers above and set it free."

"And you think this suits me, do you?" Mary whispered, her eyes falling to Madeleine's smile before moving back to her eyes.

"Do you still think it's only a sweet drink?" Madeleine asked.

Mary shook her head.

"Shall I get you another?" Madeleine asked, her voice a melody over top of the pulsing beat of the music. She nodded her head subtly as she took the now empty glass from Mary's hand.

Mary nodded along.

"Wonderful," Madeleine grinned, turning back to the bar.

 **Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, May 2020**

"Shh! Shh!" Mary implored, bringing her finger to her lips and hissing rather loudly as she walked backwards through the Great Hall. "You'll wake Carson!"

"Darling, Carson's not here," Matthew replied, following closely, their steps echoing to the ornate gallery above.

She stopped in her tracks and frowned. "What?" she exclaimed. "Well, where is he?"

He smiled and shook his head. "He's at home, likely asleep given that it's almost 4 in the morning."

"4 in the morning?" she repeated, tilting her head as she processed this information. "Well he'll likely be up within the hour getting ready to open the house before breakfast."

"Carson is off this week," he reminded her. "As are the rest of the servants. It's just us, here."

She blinked, her mouth falling open in surprise before she covered it with her hand. Slowly lowering it, her eyes widened suddenly. "That's right! That's right! No servants! Mama and Papa are in London!"

Matthew chuckled and nodded. "They are, yes."

"Just the two of us, alone in this big house," she purred, coming towards him and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

He had to hold her so she didn't stumble and fall. He smirked at the crooked smile on her lips.

"I love you so very much, Matthew," she whispered, kissing his neck and cheek clumsily.

"I love you, too," he replied, smiling as she finally found his mouth and kissed him rather awkwardly.

"I want to show you just how much I love you," she stated before lowering her voice. "I'm going to suck your cock right here in the Great Hall."

He couldn't help but laugh as a mix of arousal and amusement lit his blood. "Darling, the bedroom would be far more comfortable, don't you think?"

"But it's so much more exciting here, isn't it?" she said against his skin, removing his jacket and tossing it to the floor. "You are the English Lord, Master of the Manor, Ruler over all that you survey, and I am your willing and wanton wife, here to fulfil your every depraved and decadent desire."

He grunted at her scandalous words, groaning as her hands removed his tie and undid his shirt cuffs before moving down to grope him through his trousers.

"Darling, as fun as that sounds, I'm not entirely sure that I can enjoy myself fully with the portrait of your parents looming over us," he muttered, frowning as he couldn't help but steal a glance at the towering painting of Robert and Cora hung on the wall next to them. He dared not look to his left where a similarly gargantuan portrait of Mary's grandmother stood guard.

"It seems to me that you're not affected at all," she remarked, struggling with his belt. "Perhaps you like the idea of fucking the Earl's daughter right under his very nose?"

Before she could lower herself to her knees, he swooped her up in his arms and pressed a firm kiss to her open mouth. She laughed thickly, running her hands through his hair and jabbing her tongue against his. He brought her upstairs with impressive haste given that he was practically walking blind the entire way, but years of running up and down the grand staircase and the halls of the Family Wing had made it easy for him to manoeuvre in the dark.

"You're so big and strong," she gushed between kisses. "I've always thought so, you know? You've always been so very fit."

"Nice of you to notice," he smirked, carrying her into her bedroom and finally setting her down near the bed.

"I did notice, but was always too self-absorbed to say anything," she nodded. "But not now. You want me to tell you exactly what I want, don't you? That was your command?"

"Yes," he confirmed, swallowing tightly. He watched her intently while he went about unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"Well, the first thing that I want is for you to get me out of this dress," she grinned slapping his hands away from his shirt and undoing the buttons herself.

"That sounds perfect," he smiled, kissing her as she threw his shirt open and wrenched it down his arms.

"Mmhmm," she agreed, kissing his bare chest. "Then, I want you to throw me on this bed and punish me."

"Punish you?" he questioned, a jolt of arousal snapping his eyes wide open. "For what?"

"For tonight," she replied, kissing his chest while she undid his trousers and shoved them down his legs. "I've been so very bad."

"Have you?" he asked, swallowing again as his mouth seemed to dry up when she divested him of his boxer briefs and began stroking him.

"Yes, very, very bad," she said quietly. "I neglected you, didn't I? Left you all alone for hours at the party."

"You did," he nodded.

"I must make amends," she declared, falling to her knees. "Please forgive me, darling, won't you?"

"Mary!" he groaned as she took him into her mouth, her hands sliding up his thighs before wrapping around to grab his bottom. She was still fully clothed, kneeling on some expensive rug, staring up at him as she pleasured him. The sight was incredible to him and the sounds of her attentions upon him filling the room only made his blood course faster. He exhaled sharply, his eyes closing and his head falling back as her lips and tongue made him delirious.

"Does that feel good?" she asked, looking up at him impishly as she licked her lips.

"Yes," he growled, opening his eyes and reaching down with his hand to caress her face.

"How do you want me?" she asked, kissing his length. "I'll do anything you want, Matthew. Anything."

His blue eyes seemed to light up from hearing her beg. He glared down at her, appraising her before he made his next move. Her mind was fuzzy from lust and alcohol, the heat in her centre needing attention, needing him.

He didn't say a word before he drew her back up to her feet and spun her around. A firm push against her back bent her forward and she grasped the bedpost to steady herself. A shiver ran down her spine as he eased the zipper of her dress down to her bottom, the sole strap sliding easily down her arm to follow the rest of her gown to the floor.

"So beautiful," he whispered before kissing his way from her shoulder down her back. She arched at his touch, gasping when she felt his lips on her arse, the softest touch against her skin before his hands took hold of her thong and tore it off of her.

"Matthew!" she moaned as he stripped her naked, his hands on her hips urging her to step out of the dress and crawl to the centre of the bed.

The duvet was cool beneath her warm skin. She closed her eyes and stretched her arms out in front of her, resting her chin on the soft blankets. Her heartbeat raced as she tucked her knees beneath her, presenting herself shamelessly to receive him.

One second his hands took hold of her hips. The next, he thrust inside her from behind.

She cried out and buried her head in the blankets as he plunged deeper and deeper until she felt his hips pressed against her bottom. He held still, letting her feel the weight of him before he pulled back and snapped forward.

"Yes!" she moaned, his fingers curling into her hair and pulling back, lifting her head so every ragged breath could be heard, every slap of his body against hers could reach her ears.

His pace was relentless, building up shockingly fast until she cringed and shouted and begged and shrieked, calling out his name as he sent her over, her only reply to squeeze around him, trying to draw out his own release. Her move earned her a sharp spank to her ass in warning.

"Not yet," he growled.

She whimpered when he left her, her head falling back down, her legs still shaking. He shuffled around behind her and she kept her eyes shut, the darkness only heightening her anticipation.

The snap of a bottle opening sounded like thunder.

"You wish to be punished, yes?" he asked, his voice sounding almost casual as his hand massaged her ass.

"Yes," she gasped in reply. Her pulse was pounding now.

"You'll do anything I want," he continued.

She nodded, keeping her eyes closed. "Yes, Matthew. Anything."

She moaned when she felt the warm trickle on her lower back. His fingers rubbed against her skin slowly, spreading heat beneath his touch. Her breath caught as his fingers delved across her now slippery flesh, opening her up. A careful caress let her know he had something far more sinister in mind for her.

Her pulse jumped with her arousal.

Soon his touch was gone, but she heard him working, using the bottle again, likely readying himself. She licked her lips.

"Do you remember the first time we tried this?" he asked softly, one hand playing across her bottom.

"Yes," she gasped, her eyes still shut tight.

"Tell me that you want it again," he demanded, his voice edgier.

"I want it," she nodded immediately. "Do it. Fuck me."

"Open for me," he ordered.

She could barely catch her breath as she turned her head, the duvet cool against her cheek. Dark memories of other times came roaring forward in vivid bursts, almost sending her flying from the anticipation. Her arms moved back and behind her, her body shaking when her hands slid over her warm skin and spread herself for him. It was obscene how compliant she was, how easily she gave in to his every instruction, knowing exactly what he wanted and obeying without hesitation. They had only recently discovered this side of their relationship, and since then it had become savage and addictive, the need to explore their fantasies overpowering them both.

A harsh gasp left her lips as she felt his finger probe against her, slowly working to relax her tight muscles. She whimpered and sighed, her breath catching when he added a second finger, the oil easing his way.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Mmm," she moaned. "Yes, oh yes."

There was a dull ache, a pain that she was used to and one easily ignored as it spiked then abated. Her mind drifted to what was next, what he was preparing her for.

She swallowed audibly, a flutter in her chest as she spread her legs slightly to give him better access.

"Look at me," he snarled.

She opened her eyes and looked back behind her shoulder, staring up at his wild expression, his bared teeth. She didn't have time to ogle his firm chest and hard abs, his arms straining as he took hold of her hips. She locked on his blue eyes and nothing else.

He nodded.

"I'm ready for you. Fuck me," she pleaded.

They both groaned together as he pushed forward, the contact still feeling foreign despite not being new to them anymore. He paused, allowing her time to adjust before he pushed again, giving her slow strokes only when he was sure she could handle more of him.

"Mmm," she purred, her vision glazing over before she finally closed her eyes. She shifted back and forth on the bed, moving with every push and pull of his strong grip. The ache and discomfort of taking him in had melted away almost instantly, leaving only the heat, the burn, the sinful thrill that was swallowing her whole.

 _"Have you ever kissed a woman?" Madeleine asked._

 _"Yes," Mary laughed._

 _"Have you ever fucked a woman?"_

 _"Yes."_

The swirl of voices amidst the many sensations coursing through her were soon drowned out by her own cries, the deeper thrusts of her husband feeding her lust.

"More," Mary called out raggedly, her hands now splayed to her sides, clawing at the blanket. She searched for an anchor as he moved faster, the heat spreading through her, his hold tight and unbreakable, shifting her as he pleased.

 _"You are so full of surprises."_

 _"Why do you say that?"_

 _"I didn't take you for one to experiment. You're rather vanilla."_

 _"You don't know me. I've experimented far more than others, I dare say."_

 _"Have you ever been with more than one partner at once?"_

 _"Yes."_

"Fuck! Fuck me!" she screamed, her chest and shoulders dropping to the bed. The burn of taking all of him became a selfish pride that made her moan and keen with ever sharp slap of his hand on her ass and pull on her hair. Her addled brain just managed to process that she was being ravished like an animal in her old bedroom and that only sent her closer to the edge in a string of curses and pants. Earlier she was at the party, dressed immaculately, the picture of sophistication and elegance. Now, she was bent over, naked and sweaty, crooning her wicked pleasure in a symphony of moans and gasps.

 _"Have you ever wanted to do it again? Be with two people at once?"_

 _"I haven't thought about it in years."_

 _"Or you haven't found the right partners."_

"Oh God!' she whimpered, arching her back and working her hips against him, taking him even deeper. She fed off the forbidden and primal nature of what they were doing and it spiralled her approaching release higher and higher.

"Do it, Mary," he snarled, spanking her again. "Do it for me."

She moaned and slipped her hand down her body, finding her slick centre. On his command, she filled herself with one, then two fingers, the added stimulation sending her flying.

"Matthew!" she shouted, burying her head in the pillow.

He groaned behind her and thrust hard, pushing her further into the bed. She cried out again as she felt him spill, both of them shaking and entirely consumed.

She breathed deeply, sweeping her damp hair away from her face, her arms and legs boneless.

He kissed a trail up her back, lingering on the nape of her neck until she squirmed and laughed lazily.

"You monster," she drawled. "That was so good."

"So very good," he agreed, easing on to his side next to her and running his hand from her pink bottom and up her bare back.

She seized, smiling at the shiver that ran through her from his touch, her skin alight beneath his fingertips.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Mmm, no," she smiled, her eyes bright. "Tomorrow, it will, but right now I feel wonderfully sated."

He laughed and got out of bed, going into the bathroom to fetch towels and bottles of water. She didn't move at all while he was gone, happy to lounge in the glow of what they just did.

"Am I forgiven?" she asked, smirking at him when he returned to bed.

He chuckled and handed her a towel before taking a long sip of water. "Always, my darling. You don't need my forgiveness."

"You're so kind," she laughed, finally managing to sit up.

"Did you enjoy the party?" he asked.

She grinned. "I did, yes. It was fun catching up with everyone. I hope you managed without me."

"I was all right. I dare say that Larry surprised me, even. He might be growing up, after all," he chuckled.

"Goodness, it will have truly been a fantasy evening if that was true," she smirked.

"Anything particularly memorable?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. Nothing nearly as memorable as coming home with you."

"Good answer," he smiled. "I hope that frees us of these obligations for a few months, at least."

"Perhaps," she smiled. "There is one obligation I must still attend to, though."

"And what is that?" he asked.

She leaned over and kissed his chest. "I must ensure my husband is properly ready for bed."

"We can shower," he grunted, smiling as she kissed her way down his stomach, her hair sweeping across his skin sensually.

"We can," she agreed, taking hold of him and pressing a kiss to his length. "Afterwards."

* * *

Mary groaned, turning her head to the side and stretching her arms out across the bed. She took several deep breaths, afraid to open her eyes as she expected the influx of light would only make her headache worse. Blinking slowly, she cringed as her bedroom came into focus, the clock on her phone sitting on the nightstand indicating that it was well past ten in the morning.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, shuffling over towards the large glass of water and pills set out for her. She downed the vitamins and painkillers, gulping the water thirstily before the room began to spin again and she fell back into the pillows, an exasperated cry leaving her lips.

Curling up under the duvet, she kept her eyes closed and waited for the pills to kick in. She very seldom was hungover following a party, but she hadn't drank like she had last night in quite a while. She began going over the number of gin and tonics she had, as well as the shots and champagne.

"Those damn _Spicy Maidens_ ," she mumbled, recalling the sweet drink Madeleine had introduced her to. She must have had at least three of those.

Her phone buzzed and she reached over blindly for it, finally grabbing it and opening her eyes. She arched her eyebrow in surprise when she saw the appointment reminder on her screen.

 _'Tea with Madeleine'_

"What?" she questioned, swiping her thumb over the appointment to check the details.

"Created at 2:14 a.m.," she read, rolling her eyes. "Of course."

Tossing her phone to the side, she closed her eyes and curled up once more, hoping that a few more hours of sleep would make her at least coherent for tea with the woman from last night.

* * *

"Your family home is much nicer than Cavenham Park," Madeleine noted, taking a sip of her tea.

Mary smiled and nodded. "Thank you. They're both beautiful."

"I like it here more," Madeleine continued, glancing around the sitting room. "It's classier, more elegant."

"We try," Mary shrugged.

"And the home is open to the public?" Madeleine enquired. "I saw the signs for the parking lot and such."

"Parts of it," Mary nodded. "Mainly wings of the house that we no longer use. There are ballrooms that we rent out as event space and the grounds are used as park space by the locals. There's still more than enough room reserved for just our family."

Madeleine nodded and sipped her tea.

Mary took a bite of her blueberry scone.

"Did you enjoy the party?" Mary asked, dabbing at her lips with a linen napkin.

"I did," Madeleine nodded. "After you abandoned me, I lingered for a bit before heading back to my hotel."

"Abandoned you?" Mary laughed. "That's rather dramatic."

"But not inaccurate," Madeleine smirked. "We were having a lovely conversation until you decided it was time to go find your husband and depart."

Mary nodded. "I left him alone for much longer than I intended."

"And did you make it up to him, as we discussed?" Madeleine asked, smiling over the rim of her teacup.

Mary blinked in surprise. "I don't know. I can't recall what we discussed, actually."

Madeleine laughed and set her teacup down. "Well, I would say you most certainly did."

"Why is that?" Mary asked curiously.

Madeleine tilted her head slightly before replying. "The way you're sitting. Your arse is sore, isn't it?"

Mary couldn't stop the blush that warmed her face. "I…"

"That's what you told me," Madeleine whispered conspiratorially, running her long fingers along the necklace that hung down across her chest. "You said that he would likely be annoyed that you kept him out until past 3 a.m. but that you would placate him."

"Did I?" Mary questioned, fiddling with her napkin. "And what did you say to that?"

Madeleine grinned. "I asked you if you were going to take him back home and make sweet love to him."

Mary laughed, shaking her head. "I can't imagine you even asking that."

"I did," Madeleine laughed. "But your answer was classic."

"Was it?" Mary nodded.

"Indeed," Madeleine confirmed. "You told me that he was going to fuck you…hard…that you were going to let him have you in every way possible."

Mary averted her eyes. "Well, then."

"It seems you were true to your word," Madeleine smiled. "I like that."

"Do you?" Mary exclaimed in surprise.

Madeleine nodded. "It's good to know that you aren't all talk, that what you say isn't just for show."

"Why would you think that at all?" Mary asked.

Madeleine smiled. "Oh, you know how women in Society are. Everyone loves to brag and spread gossip, but ultimately they're all prudes."

"Or they aren't nearly as forthcoming as you are," Mary noted.

"Most definitely not," Madeleine laughed. "Which is why I'm pleased that you seem to be far more bold."

Mary studied her teacup, flashes of their conversation now filtering back through the haze of last night's memories.

"I'm not as vanilla as you thought, am I?" she challenged.

"Well, that depends on whether you're willing to follow through on what we talked about," Madeleine stated.

Mary frowned. "And that was?"

"You don't remember any of it?" Madeleine smiled incredulously. "Well, it seems I didn't make the impression on you that I thought I did."

"No, it's not that," Mary shook her head. "I just…I remember we were talking, but…"

"I asked you if you had ever been with more than one lover at the same time, and you said yes," Madeleine informed her.

Mary blinked.

"That wasn't just drunken boasting, was it?" Madeleine pressed.

Mary held her gaze. "No. Though, it was a long time ago."

"With your husband and another woman?" Madeleine asked.

Mary shook her head immediately. "No, it was before Matthew and I started dating, well before."

"Ah," Madeleine nodded.

She turned to reach for a pastry on the tiered serving platter set out before them. Mary noticed her tattoo again, revealed by the sleeveless top she was wearing.

"You like cherry blossoms," Mary commented idly.

Madeleine smiled. "I love them."

"Is there any particular significance?" Mary asked.

Madeleine grinned. "Most definitely."

She turned so that Mary could get a better view, even sweeping her hair out of the way so she could see it more clearly.

"You can touch it, if you like," Madeleine called, glancing over her shoulder.

Mary swallowed and reach out of a hand, running her fingers along the branch painted on Madeleine's skin.

"It's so smooth," Mary said.

"Thank you," Madeleine smiled. "It took forever to finish, but I love it."

"The blossoms seem to end halfway down the branch," Mary observed.

"That was done on purpose," Madeleine replied, turning around to face Mary again.

"You didn't want blossoms all along the branch?" Mary asked.

Madeleine shook her head. "No, each of the cherry blossoms means something. They each represent a different lover."

Mary blinked. "Oh."

"It's a bit vain, I know, as if I'm keeping track of my conquests in a fashion," Madeleine chuckled. "It's not that, though. I do it to keep a piece of them with me, to remind myself of the wonderful memories I've shared with them, rather than dwell on the bad."

"I see," Mary nodded.

"So, would you be up for it?" Madeleine asked.

"A tattoo? No, definitely not," Mary shook her head.

"Not a tattoo, no," Madeleine laughed. "Would you be up for a threesome, like we talked about? You, me, and your husband?"

Mary's pulse jumped.

"We talked about that specifically?" Mary questioned.

Madeleine nodded. "I offered it, yes."

"And what did I say?" Mary asked.

"You didn't say no, just like you haven't said no now," Madeleine said pointedly.

* * *

Matthew leaned over the stove, staring intently at the pan, his eyes fixated on the salmon fillet cooking in extra virgin olive oil. Flakes of salt and pepper were sprinkled on the red flesh and he watched intently, a spatula poised in one hand.

"Goodness, you're locked in concentration, rather," Mary noted, smiling as she came in the kitchen.

"The key to cooking fish is to touch it as little as possible," he murmured, not taking his eyes away. "The wonderful thing about salmon is that it tells you when it's cooked, you can see it changing colour as the heat gets into it. Once it reaches two-thirds of the way up, it's time to flip and you're essentially done."

"Chef Matthew's secret cooking tips," she smirked, coming up behind him and circling her arms around his stomach. "I'll have to remember that."

"I got it off a YouTube video," he admitted, pulling her hand up to his lips as he continued to watch the fish cook.

"Of course, you did," she smiled, leaning into him.

"How was your day?" he asked. "You had tea with who, again?"

"Madeleine," Mary answered, a slight jolt running through her at the mention of her name. "Madeleine Allsopp."

"And how is Madeleine Allsopp?" he asked idly.

"She's well," she nodded. "She has a way about her, very unlike anyone I've ever met."

He snorted. "How so?"

"I don't know, she just has no filter, none at all," she explained.

"Catherine has no filter," he noted, mentioning one of Mary's long-time friends.

"Yes, but Madeleine is different," she countered. "She's more subtle."

"All right," he nodded. "Time to flip."

"I'll get the wine," she declared, releasing him and heading over to grab the bottle sitting on the counter next to a beautiful arrangement of roses, alstremeria and orchids.

* * *

"I think this may be my best one, yet," he smiled, taking another bite of salmon.

"It was quite good, yes," she agreed, finishing her wine.

"More?" he asked, taking up the bottle.

"Please," she smiled, nodding as he poured her a glass.

He went back to his fish.

She took a long sip, staring out at the vast fields before them. With the warmer weather, they were having more of their meals out on the terrace. The sun had set a while ago and the candles and torches around them gave a soft glow, allowing her to still see the dark shadows of trees in the distance.

"What would you like to do tomorrow?" he asked.

Her gaze lingered on the horizon for a moment before she turned back to him. "Something daring."

"Daring?" he chuckled. "Such as?"

"I don't know," she smiled. "But we're getting to the end of our stay here, and I just want to make the most of it."

"And what passes for daring in Yorkshire, would you say?" he smiled.

She laughed knowingly. "Not very much, it's true."

"Still, though, we've had a wonderful week, haven't we?" he smiled.

She nodded. "We have. What has been your favourite part?"

"Well," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "What has been your favourite G-rated part?"

He nodded. "We have been quite busy. I liked having the place to ourselves. Swimming in the pond again was fun."

"When you conveniently forgot to bring our bathing suits with you," she smirked.

"It was an honest mistake, darling, but we made do," he replied innocently. "I know that you enjoyed being out on Diamond again."

"I did," she nodded. "Just getting to walk the grounds was so relaxing. We've had perfect weather all week."

"I've enjoyed the change in pace," he said, sipping his wine.

"Mmm, yes," she agreed. "Waking up without alarms, taking as long as we like for our meals, going out for walks without having to hurry back to chauffeur a child somewhere or pick another one up from daycare. It's been glorious."

"And you've only called your parents and Nanny twice a day," he joked.

She arched her eyebrow and glared at him. "Whenever you wish to quit this charade of yours where you pretend to not miss our children, you may."

He laughed. "It's remarkable how much the place has changed, isn't it? Compared to the way it was when we were kids, I feel as if so much progress has been made here so recently."

"It has," she nodded. "I've actually been quite comfortable during our stay. Usually, there's something always amiss in the house – the heating, the cooling, the electricity, the Wi-Fi, whatever. It's all been quite pleasant, and the Village is thriving."

"You almost sound as if you could be convinced to move here," he chuckled.

"Don't even joke about it. Mama would be doing cartwheels," she smiled. "No, I love London. I love the life that we've made for ourselves there, I even love how crazy it can get. This was a brilliant idea to come stay here, but I'm looking forward to going home."

"We still have the weekend," he reminded her.

"We do," she echoed. "Which brings us back to your comment that nothing about Yorkshire is daring."

"We'll have to think of something, then," he nodded.

She felt warm from both the wine and his eyes upon her. "And what are you thinking about, darling?"

"Are you sure that you want to know?" he smiled.

"Yes, regale me with your most sordid thoughts," she challenged, sipping her wine.

"I'm thinking about how you asked me to tie you up that one time," he replied, his voice low, his eyes seemingly lit up by the candlelight.

She swallowed and held his gaze. "I did, yes. You haven't, yet."

"Not yet, no," he shook his head. "Would you classify that as daring?"

"I suppose that depends on what you intend to do to me once I am tied up," she replied, taking another sip of wine as she watched his lips twitch into a half-snarl.

"And if I wanted to tie you up and blindfold you?" he continued, the last of their dinner completely ignored now.

She shook from the thought. "I'd be helpless, at your mercy."

"And you want that," he stated.

"Yes," she nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind," he smirked, reaching for his wine.

She looked away and glanced up to the dark sky above, the stars just beginning to appear. It was always so much easier to see the stars out here in the country compared to in London. They seemed to go on endlessly, a vast tapestry of different lights, suggesting countless possibilities.

They made her feel so very small.

"You all right?" he asked.

She turned back to him. "Yes."

"You seemed so far away all of a sudden," he noted.

She took a deep breath and looked up at the stars again for a moment. "There's something in the air, being out here. It feels quite different as if time is standing still or something."

"Don't I wish," he said ruefully. "What made you think about that?"

She frowned for a second. "I suppose all this talk about being daring and making the most of our remaining time here has given me pause to think."

"To think about what, in particular?" he enquired.

"To think about perhaps I need to tell you something," she swallowed nervously.

"All right," he replied.

"It's about Kemal, I'm afraid," she muttered.

He frowned and set his wine glass down. "There's something about him that you haven't told me?"

She nodded, watching his perturbed expression. "I didn't see any reason to bring it up before, and it's a bit shocking, I suppose."

"I found your entire relationship with him shocking, so that won't be a surprise," he huffed. "What is it?"

She took a deep breath, her hand shaking as she held the wine glass on the table. "When I was with him, he liked to…experiment…"

"Yes, so you told me," he nodded. "That's where tying you up came from?"

She blushed. "Yes. It was the first time anyone had ever done that to me and I found I liked it very much."

"So you said," he noted. "There's something else besides the drugs and his particular kinks?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice cracking. "He sometimes liked to have more than just me."

He frowned in confusion, weighing her words. His eyes widened a second later. "Are you saying that…"

"Her name was Lana," she said quickly. "She was a friend of Kemal's, or more than a friend, I suppose. She was at one of his parties and we were drinking and smoking up and when he took me to bed at the end of the night, she came with us."

His brow furrowed. "And he had both of you at the same time."

She nodded. "Yes."

"That bastard," he sneered. "And he made you watch them?"

She swallowed. "Yes, but that wasn't all. She…they…we were all together."

His eyes widened. "You had sex with her?"

She held his gaze though she could feel tears prickling behind her yes. "Yes."

"He made you do it?" he asked.

"Yes, he directed me, commanded me to do things with her," she continued. "It was very much in keeping with how we were with each other. He gave the orders and I obeyed."

"I see," he mumbled.

She swallowed, steeling herself to push through. "I liked it, Matthew. Being with Lana was intense."

"Were you with her more than that one time?" he asked.

She nodded. "She joined us often after that first time. He liked telling us what to do, how to serve him and he would sometimes sit back and watch us."

"And you did what he wanted," he said.

"Always," she admitted, swallowing again.

"Shit," he shook his head.

"When I finally left him, that ended things with Lana as well," she said. "I never spoke to her again."

"I see," he nodded. "And why are you telling me this now?"

"I don't want to hide anything about my past from you, although this particular detail didn't seem very important. You already knew about what I did with Kemal, I didn't think specific encounters needed to be detailed," she stated.

"Have you ever thought of it since?" he asked. "Being with a woman?"

"No," she shook her head. "I was never with Lana without Kemal being there, and I never contemplated being alone with just her. I think that I enjoyed being with her because he was there, because he would be touching me at the same time that she was."

He cringed slightly. "All right."

"That was my only group experience, with the two of them," she said. "I didn't think of it at all after I left him."

"I sense a qualifier," he frowned.

She pursed her lips, willing herself to keep her eyes on his. "It seems that last night at the party, Madeleine offered."

"She offered," he repeated. "She wanted to sleep with you and someone else?"

She nodded. "With you."

"Me?" he blurted out.

"She wants to have a threesome with us," she nodded. "We seem to have talked about it last night, though I can't remember that, and she mentioned it again today over tea."

"How refined," he rolled his eyes. "And what did you say?"

"I don't know what I said last night, but this afternoon, I told her no," she responded.

He nodded. "All right."

"But I also told her that I would tell you," she added.

He leaned back in his chair. "I see."

She swallowed, leaving him to his thoughts as they both took another sip of wine.

"So, you've told me. What now?" he said finally.

"If you wanted to, I would consider it," she stated quietly.

"You would consider it," he nodded. "If I told you that I wanted to have you and another woman at the same time, you would consider it?"

She lowered her gaze for a moment. "Yes."

"Why would you do that?" he demanded firmly. "Are you still interested?"

She met his probing stare. "I would consider it if you wanted me to."

He steepled his hands together in front of his lips and leaned forward. "You would allow me to have sex with another woman with you there?"

Her chest tightened. "Yes, if that's what you wanted."

"And if I wanted to watch you with another woman, you would do that?" he went on.

She nodded slowly. "For you, yes."

"And if I said no, that I don't want any of that, that would be the end of it?" he questioned.

"Yes," she answered. "I don't want to do anything unless you want to."

"Being with two women at the same time is believed to be a male fantasy," he stated.

"It is. Being served by two beautiful women at the same time. It makes sense," she nodded.

"And if I said I don't want Madeleine, but I may want someone else, what would you say?" he asked.

"Depending on who it was, I would agree," she said slowly.

"Are you saying that because you feel guilty over what you did with Kemal and Lana?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head, analysing his question. "We weren't together at the time, so it's not that."

"Then what?" he prompted her.

"I suppose that I do find the idea exciting," she blushed. "Only if you were willing, however. I don't want to do it without you."

He rubbed his hands together. "Well, that raises all sorts of scenarios."

Her breath quickened. "It does, yes."

He lowered his hands. "Would it shock you to know that I've been offered this before?"

She blinked. "You have?"

He nodded. "Years ago, there was a particular file that I worked on. We achieved a tremendous result, saved the client millions. The closing party was at the Mandarin Oriental. They ran casino games there. All of the dealers and servers were women hired by the client. It became apparent over the course of the evening that they were, in fact, escorts."

Her eyes widened. "And you were offered?"

"The client told me that I could have any of them and that there were rooms in the hotel reserved for us to use," he explained. "He brought over two blondes to entice me. Karla and Nicole. Fake names, I reckoned at the time. They were given to me as a reward for a job well done."

"This was before we started dating, obviously," she said.

"Of course. Well before," he nodded.

"And what did you do?" she asked.

"What do you think that I did?" he fired back, looking at her seriously.

She swallowed. "I expect that you said no."

"Why would you think that?" he asked.

She contemplated it for several moments before shaking her head. "I don't quite know why."

"You don't think that I'm the type to do such a thing, is that it?" he suggested.

She shook her head. "No, it's not that. You are more than capable of satisfying two women."

He scoffed.

"I suppose I'm just hoping that you didn't," she admitted. "I'd like to think that you were always devoted to me, as you said."

"That's rather unfair, isn't it?" he demanded. "I wasn't seeing anyone at the time. I was free to do as I pleased, just as you did, apparently."

"Yes, of course," she nodded, her stomach rolling strangely.

"Well, I'll go and get our dessert," he announced, rising from his chair.

She looked at him in surprise. "Wait, so what is the answer?"

He looked at her for a moment, as if he was judging whether to reply or not. Finally, he came around to her side of the circular dining table and placed a hand on the back of her chair just behind her shoulder. Leaning down, he moved his lips to her ear, his warm breath washing over her skin.

"I didn't, darling, though I most certainly could have," he whispered, sending a shiver down her spine. "The simple fact was, Karla and Nicole weren't you."

Heat pooled at her core. She turned her head and looked up at him.

"Madeleine Allsopp and any other woman wouldn't be you, either," he continued, his blue eyes captivating her. "Even if you were there, I wouldn't have any interest in another. There could be half a dozen women wanting to service me and I'd always choose you, only you."

She watched him straighten up and head into the kitchen to fetch their dessert, relief filling her and the pent-up tension she had been holding inside melting away.

* * *

"I'm not surprised," Madeleine nodded, giving Mary a patient smile. "The idea is rather shocking to most married men."

"I would have thought you would be quite confident of the outcome," Mary replied.

"I never assume anything until it's about to happen," Madeleine noted. "Life has taught me that."

The two women wandered down the paved path, rolling hills spreading out to their right and a line of old trees bordering their left. Mary had contemplated giving Madeleine her answer via text, but in the end, she invited her back to Downton to speak properly about such a strange scenario.

"You're disappointed," Mary suggested, her eyes hidden by dark sunglasses.

"Of course, I am," Madeleine agreed readily. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. It would have been fun. Very fun."

Mary swallowed as they continued to walk.

"You know it would have been," Madeleine continued, not looking at Mary directly. "Don't you?"

Mary nodded slightly. "I can't imagine it being bad."

Madeleine laughed. "No, I doubt anyone would have had any complaints, least of all you."

Mary blushed. "I would have become another of your cherry blossoms, would I?"

Madeleine came to a stop and turned towards Mary. Mary halted her steps and looked at the woman curiously.

Madeleine reached over and slowly removed Mary's sunglasses, revealing her eyes.

Staring at her, Madeleine smirked knowingly. "Most definitely, and you would have enjoyed it immensely."

Mary blinked.

"You are a delight, Lady Mary," Madeleine whispered, stepping towards her. "Such a sophisticated, prim and proper toff, and yet, I can see what you are underneath the layers, what you want."

Mary's pulse jumped as the woman neared her, invading her personal space so blatantly in the open outdoors.

"Tell me about the last time," Madeleine ordered. "Tell me about the last woman who had you."

"Her name was Lana," Mary answered, glancing at Madeleine's lips before looking up at her eyes, her face so very close. "My ex, he brought her to bed with us."

"And Lana, she was beautiful, wasn't she?" Madeleine asked.

"Yes," Mary nodded. "Very beautiful."

"Her body was so soft and warm, so good to touch," Madeleine continued, her voice light and playful. "She just seemed to know, naturally, where and how to touch you, what you wanted before you even knew it yourself."

Mary's eyes fluttered closed, the memories of being with Kemal and Lana pouring forth.

"She fucked you," Madeleine stated, leaning in towards Mary's ear. "Her and your ex. They both had you, over and over, and you loved it."

"Yes," Mary hissed, licking her lips.

"You were their plaything, weren't you? They did whatever they wanted with you, and you loved that, too," Madeleine declared, her voice lowering to a husky whisper now.

"Yes," Mary nodded, opening her eyes and turning towards her.

"You can have that again," Madeleine promised. "I know someone. He's entirely trustworthy and his body, my God, Mary, his body. You'll love it. He's so strong and fit, and his cock, it's amazing."

Mary gasped.

"We'll start slow," Madeleine explained. "Just you and me at first, getting to know each other, getting to feel what you like, what you want. He'll just watch us. He won't touch you until you say so."

"Matthew," Mary struggled.

"Matthew said no," Madeleine reminded her, shaking her head slowly. "He doesn't want you to have this. He doesn't want you to feel what you felt before."

Mary's eyes widened as she watched Madeleine closely.

"But you can, Mary," Madeleine smiled. "You can have everything you desire. I'll give it to you. I'll give it to you so good."

"Madeleine," Mary rasped.

"Kiss me," Madeleine commanded, parting her lips and baring her teeth. She leaned in and paused, waiting for Mary to close the tiny remaining distance between them.

Mary smiled and held back. "I want to, but I won't."

Madeleine grinned. "You won't kiss?"

"I won't kiss you, and I won't betray my husband," Mary shook her head, not backing away and keeping her eyes on the other woman.

"There may not be many more opportunities for you to experience something like this again, Mary," Madeleine warned.

Mary laughed, arching her eyebrow in challenge. "I doubt that. If I ever told you I was up for it, you would come running, wouldn't you?"

Madeleine smirked.

"If Matthew had said yes, I would have done it," Mary confirmed. "It would have been incredible, but only because he would be there. Without him, I have no interest."

"I don't believe you," Madeleine shook her head.

"No, I expect that you don't, but then you don't know Matthew," Mary replied.

"He's worth giving up a part of yourself for?" Madeleine asked. "That is what we're talking about, Mary. This isn't just a dirty romp or a sordid encounter that you can laugh about later. This is about freeing that part of you that has died a little more every day since you were married."

"You've got a nerve," Mary laughed. "I imagine this approach has worked for you in the past. I can see the appeal, certainly. I ran into my ex a while ago, actually, the one who introduced me to Lana. He tried a very similar approach. He played on my memories, told me that he could bring out who I really was deep down inside."

"And you rejected him," Madeleine said.

Mary nodded. "Quite easily. You don't have nearly the same amount of baggage, of course, but your offer of temptation is just as unappealing ultimately. My husband gives me everything I need and want. I would be a fool to risk that."

"It seems you're even more lost than I thought," Madeleine shook her head.

"Well, at least you didn't say something predictable like 'sharing is caring'," Mary smiled.

Madeleine laughed and reached up to caress Mary's cheek. "It's a shame, really. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you."

"I know," Mary nodded.

"There will be other parties," Madeleine said, turning to resume their walk. "Other moments, other opportunities. I can be quite persistent when I see something I want."

"I would expect nothing less," Mary smiled. "I'm the same way."

* * *

"The firm has survived without me, has it?" Matthew asked, looking at Alex's image on the tablet screen.

"We've never made so much money in one week before," Alex replied. "I think I've discovered the major inefficiency in our operation."

"Ha ha," Matthew rolled his eyes. "You are supposed to be my best friend, you know? Friends generally support one another."

"Friends don't let friends think about work when they're supposed to be away on their anniversary trip," Alex shot back. "Go be with your wife. We can talk when you get back."

"I'm just waiting for her to get off the phone, actually. She was talking to her sisters," Matthew replied. "Where's Anna?"

"Talking to Mary and her sisters, it seems," Alex replied, glancing across the living room. "The sooner you get your wife back, the sooner I get my fiancée back."

"All right, all right," Matthew sighed. "Talk later."

"Night. Later," Alex answered, ending the call.

Matthew set the tablet down and got up off the sofa. He left the study and made his way down the hall to the parlour where Mary was chatting away on her laptop. Sybil, Edith and Anna each were part of the video conference, the four of them speaking animatedly to each other.

"Hello, ladies," Matthew smiled, coming up behind her chair.

"Hello, darling!" Sybil answered.

"Matthew!" Edith chimed in.

"Hi," Anna waved.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid I'll need to take my wife back now," he shrugged, looking at the screen apologetically. "You can resume your scintillating talk on Anna's wedding plans, Edith's love life and whatever it is Sybil is up to tomorrow."

"Right here, yeah?" Sybil shot back showing Matthew her middle finger.

The rest of them laughed.

"It seems that my Lord has spoken," Mary teased. "Good night, all."

They all signed off and once the screen was blank, Matthew reached over and shut the laptop closed.

"Alex not entertaining you?" she asked, rising from her chair.

"He pleaded with me to get Anna off the call," he chuckled.

"I imagine you were more than happy to assist," she joked, turning around and facing him.

"Of course, I want you all to myself," he said, reaching up and framing her face with his hands.

"You're in luck, then. I'm all yours," she smiled leaning in and kissing him softly.

He hummed in satisfaction before drawing back. "You know, darling, the traditional gift on the fourth wedding anniversary is silk."

She arched her eyebrow. "Is it? I thought it was fruit and flowers."

He scoffed. "It is, here, but in America it's silk."

"Well, you should have brought me to America, then," she smirked.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Seeing as I have given you flowers every day this week, and we have had plenty of fruit, let's move on to silk, shall we?"

She laughed and nodded. "Very well."

He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a long strip of red silk.

Her pulse jumped.

"Turn around," he ordered.

She swallowed and turned away from him.

He brought the silk up and around in front of her eyes. Drawing it close, he wrapped it around her head, tying it tight and pulling her hair up and over the knot.

She gasped as her vision was covered by darkness.

"All right?" he asked, moving around towards her front.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Good."

He reached out and ran his fingers along her blouse, tracing the ruffle v-neck down towards her cleavage before he slowly unbuttoned it.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, leaning in and kissing her cheek.

"Thank you," she breathed, licking her lips as he easily parted the blouse and pulled it down her arms. It floated almost silently down to the floor.

He kissed her lips lightly before moving to her neck, then her shoulder, his fingers deftly reaching around to undo her bra and slide it off.

She swallowed as his hands cupped her breasts, his fingers and thumbs playing with her easily.

"Tell me what you want," he growled.

Her fingers flexed at her sides, the urge to reach for him almost overpowering.

"Play with them," she sighed. "I like it when you're rough with me."

"Like this?" he asked squeezing them together before moving down and licking each one slowly in turn. When he heard her gasp, he leaned in a bit into her flesh.

"Yes," she moaned, arching her back towards him.

His hands and mouth moved all over her skin, teasing her with light caresses one moment and making her squirm from his firm pressure the next. Heat spread from her chest down to her centre and her legs shook from the strain of standing as still as possible before him.

"Good girl," he praised her, moving behind her now, his hands slipping around her sides and down her flat stomach before taking hold of the button of her jeans.

"Mmm," she sighed, pushing her ass back against him as he undid her jeans and slowly unzipped them. His hands moved along the waistband before pushing them down over her hips. She shimmied slightly to help him and soon they were falling down her legs. She stepped out of them and he kicked them aside, leaving her in just her panties and stockings.

"Silk," he smiled, running his fingers along the tops of her stockings. "Very nice."

"You're not the only one who reads," she replied.

He placed his hands on her arms and steered her around, marching her forward until he stopped them a short distance away. Raising her hands, he braced them in front of her. She shivered as she felt the cool glass under her fingers.

"We're against the window. The drapes are wide open," he told her, his hands moving down her back. "Stay still."

She licked her lips. Out here in the country, there was no one nearby for kilometres, but just the thought of him putting her on display, naked for anyone outside to see, made her heartbeat accelerate.

He kissed the small of her back before taking hold of her panties. With a firm pull, he broke one side of the tiny waistband before tearing the other. The wisp of cotton disappeared, leaving her bare save for her stockings. She knew they would be staying on.

Without a word, he pushed her legs apart. When she felt his hands on her bottom, she groaned and pushed back towards him. Her breath caught for a second before she called out when his tongue swiped between her legs from behind.

"Oh!" she whimpered, his fingers spreading her open for his mouth to attack. She was aroused and ready for him, the sound of him feasting upon her lewd and exciting in her ears. She rocked against him, letting him have all he could take, and when his fingers joined in, she threw her head back and let go a shout of pleasure.

"That's it," he mumbled, drinking her in. Her legs shook and he steadied her in his grip, rising to his feet and turning her head towards him.

"Mmm," she sighed as his tongue swiped into her mouth. She tasted herself and kissed him back, her hands remaining on the window, her legs still spread from what he had just done to her.

"I want you in my mouth," she hissed, biting his lower lip playfully. "Put me on my knees, darling, please."

He kissed her a final time before stepping back, his own arousal dangerously high. He struggled out of his clothes, his eyes roaming her naked body. When they first began dating, they were tentative with each other, crossing the line between friendship and romance was so significant back then. They were careful and cautious, their shared passion always reliably incandescent but still contained nonetheless. It was only after marriage and having George did they truly talk about their desires, the need to be in sync as a couple more important than any embarrassment they might feel. As he finished stripping down and approached her, he marvelled at the change over the years, how easily they told each other what they wanted now and how eager they were to explore.

"Oh yes," she drawled when he turned her around and pushed her down to the carpeted floor. She settled on her knees, her hands reaching up to find his muscled thighs. The blindfold still robbed her of her sight, but she imagined how she must look to him and the image thrilled her. Without being ordered to, she linked her hands behind her back and lifted her head, knowing he was taking her in hungrily.

He parted her lips with his thumb and she dutifully ran her tongue along it, teasing and circling before closing her lips around it. The warmth of her mouth made him jerk and he touched her cheek before pulling back and sliding his hand around to take hold of her hair.

"Mmm," she exclaimed as he forced himself into her open mouth, the taste of him making her rub her thighs together. He was slid in to the back of her throat on the first plunge before he withdrew and brought her back again.

She held herself still, allowing him to move her head as he wanted, his length never leaving her mouth. A shiver ran down her spine as she suddenly thought of her chat with Anna from weeks ago. How must she look to him like this, and what would it be like for him to take a photo of her now, on her knees, pleasuring him? The idea of such a scandalous picture saved to his phone for him to look at whenever he wanted made her moan around him.

"Fuck, Mary," he groaned, thrusting his hips faster against her.

She kept up with his pace as best as she could, knowing the sounds of her taking him fully were driving him closer and closer to his release. His grip in her hair tightened and she purred wantonly, the sound breaking his resolve.

"Ah fuck!" he shouted.

He flooded her mouth and she took it all, regretting that she couldn't see his face but thrilled at having undone him so thoroughly. He held himself still and she swiped her tongue all around him, savouring every inch of him until he finally pulled away.

"Mmm," she made a show of swallowing all of him before smiling as she rested on her knees. "So good."

"You're so incredible," he muttered, drawing her up off the floor and into his arms. He carried her over to the sofa and sat down, a dark smile filling his face as he imagined how they would always think of what they did whenever they were in this room from now on.

She curled into his lap, the blindfold remaining on. She kissed his chest, his shoulder, his neck, anywhere she could reach, his hands roaming over her body and keeping her arousal lit wonderfully.

"Did you like that?" she asked, shaking slightly as she teased her breast.

"You know that I did," he answered thickly. "What about you?"

"I love going down on you," she whispered unashamedly, though a blush still coloured her cheeks. "What else do you have planned for me?"

"All sorts of things," he smiled. "I believe you were looking for something daring, weren't you?"

She laughed and nuzzled against his neck. "I don't need something daring, Matthew. I only need you."

"Well, that's unfortunate as I just had a trapeze installed for us in the Great Hall," he grumbled.

"I think you may have found the one thing that I will not do for you," she laughed.

He kissed her and undid her blindfold, sweeping the silk away.

She blinked and smiled at him before kissing him again.

"I love you, Mary," he said, caressing her cheek. "Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary," she replied, kissing him back. "I love you too, for always."

He held her close, kissing her again and again, finally delving his tongue past her lips to spar with hers.

"And…what…does…my sexy…wonderful…husband…desire now?" she asked between kisses, grinding against him suggestively.

"Once I recover," he replied. "I…intend…to…have my way with you."

She broke the kiss and moved over to his ear. "Is that so? You're going to take me upstairs and fuck me, yes?"

"Yes," he grunted.

"Mmm, you're going to make me scream and take it over and over, make me beg you for it until you make me cum so hard for you?" she whispered, licking his ear.

His hand fondled her breast. "Yes."

"Good," she teased. "That's what I want. I want to ache from it in the morning."

"Mary," he said reverently, kissing her again.

"Mmm, darling, you wouldn't happen to have a few more of these, would you?" she asked, sliding her fingers through the length of silk he used to blindfold her.

"They're upstairs," he said, making her shiver in anticipation.

"Well, take me upstairs, then," she smiled.

He kissed her and rose to his feet. Carrying her in his arms, he walked briskly towards the Great Hall and the grand staircase.

 **Office of Mary Crawley Interior Design Inc., Mayfair, London, England, June 2020**

"You received a glowing testimonial from the Carters," Anna informed Mary, coming into her office and taking her customary seat across the large glass desk. "I've done a mock-up for the website for you to look at."

Mary turned to her computer monitors and clicked through to the email attachment Anna had sent.

"I like it," Mary nodded, reviewing the draft post. "It's a good photo of them, as well."

"I'll put it up," Anna nodded. "We received a call for a consultation. Someone wants to redesign their kitchen and dining area."

"That's a bit small but could be fun," Mary nodded. "A new client?"

"I've never heard of them before. Harold and Madeleine Allsopp. They live in West Brompton," Anna informed her.

Mary blinked and looked over at her monitor, the call note that Anna took was already transferred over to the display.

"I see," Mary nodded. "Leave it with me. I think I'll wait for something bigger."

"They seemed quite eager," Anna commented. "I spoke with Mrs. Allsopp. She said she couldn't wait to work with you."

"Be that as it may," Mary replied evenly. "She'll just have to wait until I decide whether I think it's worth it."

"All right," Anna nodded.

"Why don't you go on and take your lunch?" Mary suggested. "We can pick up again this afternoon when I get back."

"Sounds good," Anna smiled. "I still need to hear more about your trip. There was that party you went to at Cavenham Park? The photos posted online were quite glamorous."

"Yes, I'll tell you all about it," Mary smiled. "It was quite fun. I haven't stayed out that late in forever."

Anna rose from her chair and headed out, closing Mary's office door behind her.

Mary turned back to her monitor, seeing Madeleine's name on the screen.

"Your husband's name is Harry, is it? Well..." Mary muttered.

Glancing at the name for moment, she turned her chair around to face the large windows. Rising gracefully, she walked over and pulled the blinds closed, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. When all of the windows were shut to the outside world, she went over and locked her office door before returning to her large chair.

Taking a deep breath, she undid the buttons on her blouse and pulled one side off of her shoulder. She swallowed as she ran the strap of her bra down her arm and pulled the cup away, exposing her bare breast. Reaching for her phone, she raised it up and activated the camera, moving it around to get the proper angle before taking a photo. Rearranging her clothing properly, she quickly found her ongoing text conversation with Matthew and posted the photo.

 _"All set for our lunch date..."_ she typed, a pleased smile crossing her lips as she sent the message.

 **fin**


End file.
